Now You See It
by Shana the Short
Summary: [FANOWRIMO CHALLENGE, Sequel to The Eyes Have It] Thanks to certain efforts by certain people towards sewing discord and uncertainty amongst the other nations, inter-village politics convene in the Land of Iron months earlier than they might have without 'help'. Team Eight, against all odds, is dispatched as part of Konoha's contingent.
1. Smile

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 1: **_Smile_

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><p>"So, the Kazekage almost bit it," Kiba hummed, leaning a hip against Akamaru. "Okay, not exactly the weirdest thing; political assassination is like our third most common mission, in this business. But you really think that has anything to do with whatever Tsunade-sama wants with little old us?"<p>

Sakura straightened from where she had been refastening her boots with a stretch and a few satisfying cracks, brushing back one long, silky pink lock. "Yeah. We usually get dragged into the political things. Something this big has to make some serious waves, so we're probably going to be expected to ride them out. Or maybe," she allowed. "We'll be expected to make sure people are giving Suna enough slack to recoup from the attack. We _are_ allies, after all."

"Indeed," Shino agreed, opening the door and leading them out of his apartment. They nodded to the scant few Aburame bustling around the building as they climbed the stairs leading the roof. "If you recall, we were called to action almost immediately after there was an attempt on the Wasabi Clan Head's life last winter."

"Well, yeah," Kiba shrugged as they leapt off, sailing from rooftop to rooftop. "But that was just like, lining up an arrow and letting fly or something. Do they even know where the guys who did this are?"

"I'm sure we'll find out soon." Sakura touched down on a pole and kicked off, flipping gracefully through the air before landing in front of the Tower. She straightened up from her crouch as the boys joined her, and beamed when she saw a familiar figure approaching. "Kurenai-sensei!"

"Didn't you three just get back this morning?" The stunning woman they were fortunate enough to call their teacher gave them each a concerned once-over. "I didn't expect to see you three conscious until this evening."

"Yeah, we crashed at Shino's place for a couple hours," Kiba admitted without shame as he scooped her up into a quick bear hug. "But duty came a-callin' and here we are."

Her other side was quickly covered by Sakura, who dragged Shino along. "We had some ideas as to what the Hokage might want, but if you're here too then it's probably something different." Something decidedly more legitimate and on the record, at least. Such missions weren't exactly _rare_ for Team Eight, since they needed to be shown as at least moderately competent, but they hadn't been the common fare for years.

"We'll see," was Kurenai's verdict. She extracted herself from her knot of students when it looked as though Akamaru was feeling left out and preparing to join in on the fun. "No matter what, it will be good to work with you again. I'm proud that you've gotten to be so reliable," she admitted. "But I do miss you three while you're away."

"The sentiment is returned, naturally." Shino adjusted his glasses as they ambled into the Tower, nodding their hellos to the receptionist and making a beeline for the Hokage's office.

The woman waiting for them there was no less stunning than their teacher, and by this point was somebody almost as familiar to them. "Hokage-sama," Sakura greeted, dropping into a respectful bow. "Team Eight, reporting as summoned." There weren't any chairs set out, she noticed, but there was a very thick stack of folders on the corner of the desk. Whatever she and the boys and their teacher were in for, it wasn't going to be any less rooted in intelligence than what they were usually expected to do.

"Early," Tsunade noted, subtly snapping a drawer shut as she quickly stood. "Excellent. I'm probably going to need more time to explain things to your support, so we might as well start now."

"Our _support?"_ Kiba repeated. "Uh… Hokage-sama…" He visibly floundered for a more composed reaction, even with his eyes hidden behind his angular sunglasses.

Sakura couldn't blame him. "We've never needed support on our missions before." At least, not any support that wasn't already established in the area where the mission was based, at least. Again, it hammered in just how much their paths had differed from that of their comrades. "…I apologize, Hokage-sama. Please, continue." She bowed again, grimacing. She could tie her mind in knots, thinking about possible reasons, or she could make things simple and just not interrupt her boss.

Said boss snorted in amusement. "This," she explained, gesturing to them. "This right here is why you three are my favorites of your bratty batch. No shouting or grumbling or whining or getting lippy." She cast a warm look at Kurenai. "And always on time, without kicking in a door or window."

Personally, Sakura thought they were her favorites because they always brought back plenty of quality alcohol when it came time for their confidential debriefings, but she was too smart to actually say so.

"You honor us," Shino murmured, mirroring her bow. They rose back up as one, and Sakura fought back a smile as she heard Akamaru's tail begin to thump against the floor.

"Damn right I do," Tsunade agreed, leaning against the edge of her desk. She let her palm fall onto the stack of folders with a small slap. "In fact, I honor you so much I'm letting you come along to represent the village."

"Hokage-sama?" Kurenai's brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, I don't quite—"

"Jiraiya's been busy," Tsunade explained, expression firming. "And so has Hatake. Between them and their trouble-magnets, they've managed to scrape together a pretty comprehensive picture in regards to what we're facing. And by 'we' I mean _all_ of the Hidden Villages." She huffed out a sigh. "The attack on the Kazekage—while unsuccessful—is a sign that we need to pony up and share with the class a little earlier than we might have liked."

"I'm still not entirely sure why you're including us in this," Sakura commented, mind working furiously. Oh, certainly, she could see ways that her team would be useful—they had certainly raised enough hell over the past few years to make a meeting with Konoha look appealing, and a few minor nudges here and there could definitely be arranged—but none in a publically acknowledgeable way. "I would have thought that ANBU would be handling your protection details."

"They are." Tsunade affirmed. "Your team is going to be part of the diplomatic proceedings."

Sakura couldn't hold back a laugh. "Sorry, what?"

Kiba stuck a pinky into his ear and wriggled it around for a moment. "She just say what I think she said?" He asked Shino, _sotto voce_.

His teammate's skepticism was nearly palpable. "I cannot be sure, given that I do not know what you suspect you have heard," he said, slow and low. "But I must profess some uncertainty of my own."

"You heard me." Tsunade watched them, patient and unruffled. "You're going to be playing nice with the foreigners while we convince them to care about a bunch of missing-nin they've only known as two-bit terrorists and mercenaries up to this point."

"…these would be the foreigners we've been playing like a cheap shamisen for most of our professional lives?" Sakura asked dryly, pushing her dark glasses up to rub at her eyes tiredly. "I'm… _touched_ by your faith in us, I guess," she hedged. "But I'm not so certain we'll perform as impressively up close as we do at a distance." That was a bit of a lie; she knew politics demanded about as much deception as they used in any of their normal, off-the-books missions. She just wasn't sure if they would managed to keep everything bottled up, with so many chances to gloat readily available. Team Eight was recorded as an average, dependable, but largely unremarkable squad.

If even half of what they were responsible for was known to the right parties, they would have made the Bingo book years ago, like Naruto. It was something Kiba still pouted over, from time to time.

"Well, lucky for you, I _am_ certain." Tsunade hefted up the folders with one hand, somehow managing to keep them from spilling all over the floor. "You won't be alone in this, naturally, but if anything gets out your support will be there to watch your backs."

"We can handle ourselves," Kiba grumbled.

"Depending on just which villages are involved in this meeting, some assistance would be… appreciated," Shino ceded, reflecting upon one of their many misadventures.

"All of them."

"All—" Kurenai jerked her head up. "Forgive me, Hokage-sama, but _all_ of them?"

"All of them," the Hokage said again, extending the files. "Well, plus our hosts, too."

A terrible suspicion niggled at the corner of Sakura's mind. "Our hosts." She repeated the word slowly, stretching it out. "For an international conference. An international conference for parties that have been at war with each other in some form or another almost endlessly since their formation. They must be pretty neutral, these hosts."

"They are fairly neutral in regards to shinobi politics, yes," Tsunade agreed, her red, red lips pulling into an almost vicious smile. "Well, most of the time, anyways. Their current leader graciously agreed to moderate, but I thought we'd have more time to get our ducks in a row."

Sakura heard a soft noise, and her head snapped to the side. "Shut up, Shino."

Her teammate stared back, impassive, as though he hadn't just snorted at her. "I haven't said a word. But I do hope you will guide us well in the days to come?"

"Guide us?" Kiba furrowed his brow, crossing his arms and jiggling one hip as he thought. "So, what, you know this place pretty well?" He frowned. "Have you been there without us? You're a little better at maps and customs and stuff, but… man, when would you have even gone, if we weren't with you? Where's this magical Land of Neutrality supposed to be, anyways?"

"Iron, Kiba," Kurenai clued him in gently, as Sakura finally stepped forward to accept the thick stack of folders. "We're going to Iron."

Sakura forced her lips up into a bright smile. "Can't wait," she said. "It'll be… something." She glanced at the top folder, emblazoned with the insignia of Kirigakure. "Definitely something."

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,707_

_**Total Word Count: **__1,707_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__1,667_

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><p><em>I'm a little nervous! It feels good, getting back into my first (completed) storyline. I'm sure you guys have plenty of questions, but, well… It's the first day, so a lot of things are yet to come, and a lot of things (namely what the hell Team Eight has been up to between the Chuunin Exams and now) will be explained. So please, bear with me! <em>_I'll do my best for everyday updates, like my last attempt at this, but I've also got a job and classes to deal with so I hope you'll forgive a little straggling, here and there. Beyond that, I have just one more thing to say, I guess._

_Welcome back, everybody. Thank you very much for your support these last few years. I hope this ends up being worth the wait._


	2. Steps

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 2: **_Steps_

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><p>"I'm home! Love you, missed you, gotta write Sofu-sama about something, we'll talk later!" Sakura tore off her boots and nearly tripped up the small ledge in her foyer, before regaining her balance and charging for the stairs. She pecked each of her bemused parents on the cheek as she went, and narrowly missed knocking her shin against the coffee table as she darted down the hall.<p>

She tossed her mission-pack onto her bed and threw herself into her desk chair with nearly enough force to tip it over, rifling through her drawers for the appropriate stationary and calligraphy equipment. Without getting up, she dragged her canteen back over from her bed and began preparing her ink. Once that was done, she finally took a long, deep breath and collected her thoughts. None of this, she reminded herself, was not her fault. Technically. Nobody could prove anything, was the point, and neither Shino nor Kiba would ever sell her out. It wasn't her _fault_.

Except for the little, Iron-related details that were.

She had been avoiding family gatherings for a while—at first, it was to keep awkward meetings with Yutaka down, because the clan as a whole would have its image weakened if any outsiders saw dissent within the ranks of the main family. Then, it was after her team's promotion, and she had wanted to avoid the awkwardness of the aftermath of her grandfather, cousin and uncle seeing her poisoned and listless after she took down that stupid puppeteer who backed out of their scheduled match. And then there was the thing with Sasuke, and all of the promising young ninja were kept safe at home for a few months.

And _then_ it was truly out of her hands, because she and Shino and Kiba had been busy, busy little bees, nudging political situations this way and that with small, negligible disasters that knotted together into truly breathtaking quagmires. They had driven countries to the brink, which she privately took pride in, but it was killer on the social life; _especially_ after they had their latest promotion. Sakura hadn't set foot in Iron since Tsutomu-niisama had been formally appointed as heir. And while that had likely helped her older cousin consolidate his power and sway without her there as a point of speculation, it also meant that as soon as she set foot in Iron, she would have a _lot_ of familial obligations to catch up on.

She bit back a groan and picked up her brush. There was nothing for it, she admitted to herself grimly. She would have to roll with whatever punches came her way, and really, the political clout of the Haruno clan was the opposite of a problem in her coming mission. It was probably half the reason she and her team were chosen. She could deal with this.

She bit her lip, steeled herself, and carefully began her strokes.

_Dearest, most honored Sofu-sama,_

_I apologize deeply for the suddenness of this news, but as I write this I have only known about these glad tidings for an hour, and have only just secured my permissions to speak of my upcoming mission. You recall, no doubt, my endless disappointment upon having to refuse…_

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><p>Sakura glanced up from where she was lying with her cheek pillowed against the table. "Hinata-chan," she beamed as she tiredly heaved herself up. "Glad you could make it."<p>

"I'll always have time for you, Sakura-chan," Hinata said firmly, and nothing in the world could keep a fond smile off of Sakura's face at that.

The years had been very kind to Hinata. Where once she had been a shy, bleeding-heart pacifist with staggeringly low self-esteem and toxic family issues, she now stood proud as the apprentice of the Hokage herself, an accomplished medical ninja, the uncontested next Head of her clan, and a beautiful young woman in her own right, with a backbone of pure steel. She had grown her hair out since their genin days, and a small, green diamond was emblazoned proudly upon her forehead—Sakura was one of the few who knew that she had carefully ensured that the shade was the exact same as that of the Caged Bird Seal. It was as much an act of defiance as it was a declaration of intent.

At least half of Sakura's increasingly rare free time and some of her work time had been spent in one musty private library or another, tracking down sealing scrolls and theories to help Hinata with her main dream: the creation of a single seal to be put on _every_ Hyuuga, protecting their clan's pride without subjugation. She wanted it to be her first act as Clan Head, so they were on a bit of a tight schedule. Naruto and the two Sannin sometimes helped where they could, but by and large it was a private project.

Sakura wondered sometimes just what it meant that _she_ was the other main collaborator, and always felt warm and happy for hours afterwards.

"Will Ino-san shall not be joining us today, I believe." Hinata was still talking, and Sakura shook herself free of her nostalgic thoughts.

"Ino? Oh right, she's still out in… the Land of Noodles, I think it was? She still won't tell me how she managed to get a spot as godmother for the daimyo's firstborn, though."

"Naruto-kun said it had something to do with the two of them helping arrange and cement the match, I believe." Hinata cradled her cheek in one hand. "He was so excited about being offered his own position." She sighed, smiling gently.

"I do remember him screaming from the rooftops that he would be the future Ramen King's Godfather, yeah." Sakura laughed, taking a sip of her tea. "He _does_ know that's not their only export there, right?"

"He says it's the most important."

Sakura snorted. "Right. So, does that mean you're getting paired up with different teammates for the Summit?"

"Only temporarily," Hinata shook her head. "He and Sasuke-san and Kakashi-sensei will meet us in Iron, but for the initial escort two elite ninja will be with me." That meant ex-ANBU, Sakura translated. "One of them worked extensively with Kakashi-sensei before, so all should go well."

"For a given definition of 'well'," Sakura murmured, darkly.

"Still feeling nervous?" Hinata asked, not without sympathy. Shinobi were paranoid as a matter of course, but for Sakura that natural inclination was compounded by her personal stake in all of this.

"Well, I sent off a letter to my grandfather," Sakura said, as a fresh pot of tea and a new pair of cups were set between them. "So, we'll probably get set up in nice quarters by the samurai, if nothing else."

"There won't be nothing else, will there?"

"How do you feel about official parties?" Sakura answered her question with a question as she poured for both of them. "Like. Big ones. With music and food and performers and maybe a circus." She tugged at one of her forelocks. "Nii-sama threatened to get a circus, if I put off coming up any longer."

Hinata blinked, befuddled. "A…"

"Circus," Sakura confirmed. "I mean, I've kept up with my letters but I haven't seen a lot of my relatives in the flesh for a while, and the Haruno clan is pretty big and well-connected; the first-born's first-born's homecoming demands a certain amount of celebration…" She puffed out her cheeks. "Plus the two—three, if you count genin—promotions I've been given since they've last seen me. And on top of that, I'm sixteen, so while I'm not in any position to be betrothed to any of our allied clans—"

"—there is still the matter of celebrating your majority to deal with," Hinata finished, catching on shrewdly.

"Yeah." Sakura blew out a sigh and pressed her face back down into the cool wood of the table. "And that's supposing that they don't try to be supportive and pick favorites out of the other villages' delegations as prospective matches for me."

Hinata laughed, soft and sweet. "You must be very loved, Sakura-chan."

"…yeah." Sakura felt her lips curve and heat steal across her cheeks, and shifted so her hair would hide most of it from view. "Yeah I really am." She loved them too, really, she just balked at the thought of having to juggle a joyous reunion with cutthroat shinobi politics. The Haruno clan was, naturally, well accustomed to cutthroat politics, but as a clan of samurai she felt it was wrong to burden them without outsider ninja-squabbles.

"…are there any preparations you feel are particularly important?" Hinata asked, after a lull of companionable silence had stretched out. "I'd like to forward them to Naruto-kun and Sasuke-san, as they will not have the benefit of your presence during their own travels."

"Close-toed shoes," Sakura said immediately. "Or at least tabi with their sandals. Keeping your toes protected in the cold and snow is very important; I know you can do it with chakra, but samurai get antsy if they notice a constant ninjutsu being maintained." She straightened up and took a sip of noticeably cooler tea. "Let's see… oh, right." She set her cup down and pinned Hinata with a serious glare. "Do _not_ let Naruto try to fight a moose. He _will_ die. I don't care what crazy healing ability he has, those things are a primordial force of nature he won't survive."

"I see." Hinata was visibly skeptical.

Sakura refused to let the point go. "Do you remember the Forest of Death? How big and dangerous the wildlife there was?"

Hinata nodded, growing suitably solemn.

"Moose are _naturally_ like that, size and all," Sakura explained grimly. "I mean, they attack more people than bears or wolves, yeah, but they aren't usually immediately aggressive… unless it's a mother with calves or mating season or something, but _don't let him pick a fight_. Same for Sasuke, if he thinks about taking this as a challenge. It is _not_ a good idea."

"I understand," Hinata assured her. "I shall warn Kakashi-sensei and Jiraiya-sama as well. They should be able to take care of such impulses."

"Good." Sakura relaxed and took another sip of her tea. "Alright, let's see… what else…"

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><p>"Wake up, losers!" Sakura called, kicking open the door to Shino's apartment with the full confidence that his kikaichu had disarmed the normal gamut of traps when they sensed her approach. "We're going <em>shopping.<em>"

Kiba groaned from where he and Akamaru had commandeered the couch. Just as she had thought, those worthless louts had run back here as soon as they were released by the Hokage, and had continued sleeping off their last mission instead of being responsible and proactive, like Sakura.

Well, that simply would not stand.

"Why." Shino's voice was a bland, soulless syllable in the dark, indicating just how groggy he was. That was just too bad. Sakura was wired on caffeine and feeling vindictively motivated; there would be no mercy today. Not that there _usually _was, but that was besides the point.

"So you delicate southern flowers don't die in Iron," Sakura explained brightly, grabbing Kiba by the ankle. She heaved both him and the massive hound sprawled over him like a living blanket onto the floor, earning two pathetic whines. "It's for your own good, so get up. We're meeting Hinata at the market in ten minutes."

"…you simply do not wish to carry your own purchases," Shino grumbled, but she could hear him tossing back his covers. "How do I know this? Naturally, you know our measurements and tastes well enough to make purchases on your own, and demand restitution at a later date."

"It's for your own good," Sakura repeated, because Shino wasn't exactly wrong. "Now shake a leg and get your pants back on, we don't want to keep the young lady waiting."

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,983_

_**Total Word Count: **__3,690_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__3,334_

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><p><em>A bit of flashbacking here, and some set-up for the future. And also some important life advice regarding the moose populations of the world. Thanks for all of your reviews, and I'll see you all tomorrow!<em>


	3. Train

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 3: **_Train_

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><p>"This is the worst," Kiba grumbled, wincing at some screech or clank only he and Akamaru—sprawled on the floor of their compartment, paws on his head and whining pitifully—could properly hear. "My head is killing me. Couldn't we have just… I dunno, taken a caravan in, or something?"<p>

"Railways are how most imports get into Iron, nowadays," Sakura explained without looking up from her book. "It's a little expensive, but in climates like this it's just smarter and safer in the long run. Besides, if we were in a caravan, you'd be whining up a storm about frostbite and hidden ice patches by now. Just be grateful that you're being coddled and bear with it. Or put some earplugs in."

"Why did we even go on that stupid shopping trip if we were going to be inside all of the time?" Kiba tugged at his thick, fur-ruffed leather jacket and snow pants with a scowl. It wasn't very different from his normal attire, these days, but overexposure to Shino had caused the feral teen to nurse even the pettiest of his grudges.

"I believe," Shino put in, his large parka partially unzipped in accordance with the toasty train compartment. "Sakura's own benefit was the issue that needed to be addressed."

Sakura made a vague noise for them to interpret as they would; truth be told, she _did_ have the biggest changes out of any of them, even including Kurenai's swap to a dark, professional uniform beneath her flak jacket. Sakura was trussed in a resplendent, short crimson kimono touched with gold embroidery and emblazoned with the white Haruno crest on the back. There was a thick, fluffy white pelt taking up the seat next to her that she would wind herself like an oversized stole once they had arrived. She had chosen a pair of black pants and knee-high white boots, but by and large her entire appearance seemed to be geared towards rubbing her dual loyalties in everybody's faces.

From the waist down, she was entirely a shinobi, with all of her holsters taped and pinned within easy reach. From the waist up, however, she was indisputably the daughter of a samurai house, the look cemented by the tanto tucked neatly into her obi.

"That's enough, boys," Kurenai scolded. "I don't care _how_ cranky you two get while traveling; we have a mission. More than that, you're expected to make a good impression, for the sake of our village. Of course, if you need me to go next door and tell Tsunade-sama that you'd rather get out and walk…"

"That won't be necessary," Shino insisted, slamming his heel into Kiba's shins since the other boy's toes were protected for once. His colonies were still acclimating to the dramatic change in temperature; a hike in the ever-deepening snowdrifts flying past their window would likely result in fatalities.

"Seriously." Sakura turned a page. "If I had known all you two were going to do was complain, I'd have stayed in Hinata's compartment. Even those two weirdos she got stuck with are better; they're quiet, at least." Unfortunately, said compartment was on the other side of Tsunade's, which meant she couldn't sneak over without getting waylaid by their boss.

Definitely a pity.

Akamaru gave another pleading whine. Kurenai sighed and leaned forward. "Sorry dear," she murmured, rubbing behind his no doubt aching ears. "I'll put you out until we get there, okay?" Her fingers twitched faintly and the nindog went blissfully limp and silent.

"Hey, so Sensei—"

"_No_, Kiba. You'll just have to bear with it." Kurenai stood firm against the pathetic look her student was giving her. "I'll have to justify even this much to Tsunade-sama later, so—"

She was interrupted by a knock at their door. The door, specifically, _not_ connecting to their superior's compartment. The four of them traded looks, and Sakura put her book aside after marking her place. She unlatched the door and slid it open, offering a polite smile to the shinobi waiting outside. She had to tilt her head up, but he wasn't so tall that she needed to crane her neck back to look at him. He didn't seem to be too much older than she was, if at all; he had a youthful and angular face, still struggling free from the last vestiges of baby fat, and his eyes were round and surprised behind his glasses.

One hand drifted up to rub through his close-cropped pale blue hair, and Sakur wondered if it was the surprise of finding somebody with coloring as exotic as his own that had his tongue knotted up at the moment.

She decided to gently prod him along. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Si—ah, you mean me?" Heat flooded the Mist-nin's cheeks, and he dropped his gaze immediately. She saw a flash of even, pointed teeth as he spoke, and filed the detail away for later examination. "N-no, no, um; you see, it's just, one of my superiors…" He shrugged helplessly. "He noticed a genjutsu go up, you see, and—"

"Our teammate here needed a little help settling down," she explained, stepping aside for a moment so that he could see Akamaru's peacefully snoozing bulk. "Sorry for the false alarm."

"No, really I'm glad it was nothing!" He smiled, a little awkwardly because of how deliberately he kept his lips together. Sakura imagined he was worried about coming off as threatening if he grinned normally with a mouth full of teeth like _those_. It made Sakura relieved, not for the first time, that her eyes were so easy to hide casually.

"Right," she kept smiling pleasantly, moving back to lean one hip against the doorway. She tried to ignore the familiar feeling of Kiba's shameless staring, almost certain that he was half-hanging over Shino in order to satisfy his own nosiness. The Kiri-nin, unused to her teammate's complete and utter lack of propriety, flushed again and took a half-step back.

"Er. Yes. Right. Well, now that I've confirmed…" He trailed off and made an abortive gesture towards the compartment behind her. "Yes. I'll just be heading back to give Mizukage-sama my report. Um, I-I'll see you at the Summit, I suppose?"

"Very probably," Sakura told him, and gave him a little wave as he walked away. He shook his own fingers back at her, almost shyly, before turning around. She got an eyeful of a large, irregular, bandage-swathed shape on his back, which was apparently meant to be a sword or axe of some sort if the two handles jutting up were any indication. It was hard to tell, given the relatively poor fluorescent lighting of the train and her own sunglasses, but she thought the faint discoloration of callouses she could just barely make out on his fingers were consistent with those left by a sword.

"Interesting," she hummed to herself, sliding the door shut behind her and moving back to her seat. She ignored the speculative stares of her teacher and teammate for about as long as it took for her to realize that her book was not where she had left it, and then reluctantly looked up. "What?"

"We didn't say a word," Kiba said innocently, bouncing the spine of her novel against his shoulder in a lively rhythm. His grin was anything but, and he was much less wary about flashing fang than the young man from Kiri. "But, hey, since you wanna talk—" _or else the book gets it,_ went unsaid. "—then what gave you the Look this time?"

"What look?" Sakura felt her eyebrows raise of their own accord, honestly befuddled.

"No, no, you're not even saying it right. The _Look._ You know, the one you get when we've got a long term mission and you've found a new toy to play with."

"People aren't toys, Kiba," Kurenai chastised him gently. "You do have a certain sparkle about you now, though." She smiled at Sakura, her own curiosity shining through without even the faintest stab at subterfuge.

Sakura rolled her eyes heavenwards, before shaking her head at them. "It really isn't anything like you're thinking."

"I do hope not," Shino chipped in blandly. "Kiba was positively insufferable during your previous… let us call it a 'dalliance', in the Land of Birds."

"That wasn't _even_ a dalliance!" Sakura burst out, upset despite the years that had passed since the incident in question. "And it wasn't what you thought that time, either! I mean, Sagi-sama turned out to be Toki-hime, like I suspected. That's all." She puffed her cheeks out sullenly. "Is it so wrong, to like a good puzzle every now and again?"

Kiba stopped tapping her book up and down, glancing over the cover. It was a mystery novel with a splash of romance and a nice heaping of suspense. She had picked it up at a store near the station and it was still a new publication, so she had likely paid more than the paperback really merited, but it was a good indicator as to just where her interests were these days.

"You sure that's all?" He said suspiciously. "'Cause I love you like a sister an' all, but I don't want to deal with you—"

"If the next thing out of your mouth has something to do with pregnancy, I'm punting you off of this train," Sakura told him, snatching her book back. "Relax, okay? I just… I think I want to fight him."

It had been a long time, since she felt her pulse quicken with anticipation and curiosity. What _was_ that strange weapon? How did he use it? Were there strategic reasons for the two handles, or was it a two-in-one arrangement?

"Ah." Kurenai passed a hand over her mouth, not quite hiding the amused smile curling at her lips. "To think, we're barely halfway to our destination, and your natural instincts are already kicking in."

"Truly, a samurai pedigree is a fearsome thing," Shino agreed, shifting his knees to one side to avoid her kick. "I daresay we are in for quite an interesting stay, if we are on track to meet more of your distinguished relatives.

Sakura stared at him, for a long, long time. She stared at him long enough to actually make him look a little discomfited, and then she beamed at him, sweet and gentle.

"You're right," she agreed. "My clan… they'll _definitely_ keep you all on your toes."

"…oh my god," Kiba said quietly. His voice rose in repetition. _"Oh my god._ Shino. Shino, we're getting tossed into a whole clan of Sakuras. Samurai Sakuras."

The Aburame heir swallowed audibly, and seemed to pale a shade or two. "True enough," he said. "However, I am sure they shall be entirely respectable, given the circumstances."

"Naturally," Sakura said, flipping back to the page she had left off on. "Where do you think I learned how to keep my temper so well?"

The compartment was dead silent for the rest of the ride, just as she had hoped.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,843_

_**Total Word Count: **__5,533_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__5,000_

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><p><em>Day Three, down. That's all there really is to say today.<em>


	4. Verse

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 4: **_Verse_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Sakura stayed standing at attention beside Hinata as the leaders took their places at the smallest of the low table upon one of the raised daises, her mind working furiously behind her blank, respectful facade. She had honestly expected for them all to be shuffled off to the Three Wolves area; that was historically where shinobi politics were usually dealt with whenever they tried to spill into Iron. It was a naturally isolated area, just as easy to defend as it was to lay siege to, depending on the competency of the people involved.<p>

She had _not_ expected to find herself—well, maybe _herself_, but not herself, and her comrades, and _the foreigners_—welcomed to Ogifu itself. The capital of Iron, hidden behind dark, impregnable walls and cut into the base of a mountain, was every bit as resplendent as she remembered from her childhood memories. Technically, Sakura knew that shinobi had set foot in this city—in this very room—before. She _knew_ that. She had personally added to that number.

She still wanted to shove every ninja in the room outside and shoo them away, as if they were intruding upon sacred ground.

And if _she_ felt that, trapped in political limbo as she was on that front, she could only imagine how the familiar collection of lords lining the two longest tables on the lower dais felt. She could feel her grandfather's presence without looking, like a sun; he was seated upon the upper dais, next to Mifune-dono himself; she had spotted Tsutomu holding the Haruno seat at one of the long tables, so that meant that Hideki was not here in the capacity of the Haruno Clan Head.

Iron was taking this seriously enough to call in not only its ruler-general, but its Minister of the Left as well. Sakura vaguely recognized the young lord on the other side of Mifune-dono, and supposed he must be 'Sanada', the new Minister of the Right that her grandfather had mentioned—with, dare she say it, a tinge of exasperated respect—in a letter a few months back.

"I must confess, I had imagined much less open reception when you agreed to moderate, Mifune-sama," Tsunade began, once the flowery greetings and acknowledgements and introductions had been laid out, and she had been given leave to speak.

"Given just what you shared," Mifune-dono said, stroking his mustache pensively. "We reached the conclusion that Iron could not ignore this rising threat."

The air changed drastically, especially around the other foreign contingents. It was one thing for Konoha to insist that something particularly dangerous was happening by the scenes; that had to be taken with the normal fistful of salt, in case it was some ruse to buy time for a more insidious undertaking. _Iron_ sitting up and taking notice of something outside its icy borders was very, very different.

_It's all my fault,_ Sakura finally admitted, and had to swallow back a peal of nervous laughter. In the privacy of her own head, she could finally acknowledge it. She was the only common denominator here that she could see, though maybe whatever intelligence Tsunade was sitting on really _was_ just that compelling. Maybe.

"Indeed," said her grandfather, letting his eyes drag over the assembly of Kage, resting briefly on the youngest: the Kazekage, who recently dodged death. The Kazekage, who had been part of the attack on the Leaf that her grandfather had a literal front-row seat for. The Kazekage, whose brother—also in the room, but she was ignoring him—had nearly killed Sakura, just as surely as she had nearly crippled the puppeteer. "Iron has historically maintained neutrality to maintain its own strength. Burying our heads in the snow and closing ranks would be ignorance—and worse, cowardice."

He had a particularly vicious and imposing air, her grandfather did, and a sharp, galvanizing tongue to match when he could be bothered to shake himself out of his taciturn ways. Immediately, she could see the already stiff backs of the assembled nobility straighten further, their pride steeling into an immediate wall of resolve. They were lords, yes, but samurai—soldiers—before that. They were politically strong because they were personally strong.

Sakura felt her own pride swell up at the sharp prod, and felt conflicted yet again.

"Bah! No one here is stupid enough to call a samurai yellow," was the Tsuchikage's gruff assessment. "But we _would_ like to know just what big secret you've rooted up, since you've led us all here."

He must have been given _something_, Sakura knew. Something pointed enough, personal enough, dangerous enough to get him out of his village and country and here in the flesh. Sakura didn't even know that much, yet; most of her mission preparations had involved memorizing the current vicissitudes of each village's political climate.

So, really, she was just as interested in whatever Hatake and Jiraiya had found. She was sure if they weren't among enemies, Shino's colonies would be buzzing up a storm in regards to the curiosity gnawing at him.

Tsunade did not keep them in suspense.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"Fucking unbelievable," was Kiba's verdict, when they were allowed to regroup with their leader during a short recess after Tsunade's rather world-shaking divulgence. "I mean, not that there's a rampant Uchiha screwing things up behind the scenes—" more than they were, at least. "—like, that's something you just sort of <em>assume<em>. But ripping out demons and mashing them together? Can you even do that? I mean, they aren't wet clay, they're… hell, I don't even _know_."

"Chakra," Hinata supplied helpfully. "Very strong, very volatile chakra." She did not contest Kiba's aspersions upon the Uchiha, which Sakura personally thought was a testament of just how internalized some clan teachings could be.

"Yes," agreed one of her replacement teammates; the one with slanted, cat-like eyes and a pleasant smile. The other one—the pale one—smiled too. It wasn't pleasant. Sakura had seen painted masks with more convincing expressions. "Theoretically, if they really were one creature before, the way the legends about the Sage of Six Paths say they were, they _could_ be recombined. I don't know if there would be any way to really keep the result in line, though…" He fell silent, clearly troubled by the thought.

He was old enough to probably remember the Kyuubi's rampage, so Sakura supposed thinking of that sort of damage, tenfold, was understandably distressing. In fact, all of the Hidden Villages understood just how much stopping power a _single_ demon had; to have their forces stripped of that, and have them all mashed together and lined up as an enemy…

Perhaps she had been a tad egotistical.

If anything could get five different shinobi forces plus the samurai to work together, a catastrophe on that scale would just about do it. Probably. It only made her job a little easier; there were still a lot of details to be addressed, even if cooperation _was_ nominally offered. The matter of just who would be expected to lead their combined forces, for instance, was not one Sakura particularly expected to enjoy hashing out.

"Well," she said reasonably. "Naruto and Sasuke are involved, so even if it sounds insane, it's probably true."

"_Sakura-chan,"_ Hinata reprimanded her with a look, but couldn't quite fight back the smile creeping over her face.

"No, no," Kiba lifted a hand. "She's got a point. Like, it's unbelievable, but I still—"

"Kiba," Shino spoke sharply.

"—_believe it_," he finished, with relish. He yelped a moment later, when each of his teammates slammed a fist into his ribcage and his own partner fastened his jaws around Kiba's knee in clear disapproval.

Tsunade snorted, finishing the long pull she had been taking from her canteen. Sakura was absolutely positive it was not holding water. "Okay, okay, cut the comedy act, you three. Sakura, I want your opinion."

"I have plenty of those," Sakura said, and turned her attention fully to her leader. "Which specific one would you like, Hokage-sama?"

"I want to know what the samurai are going to turn our discussion to next," Tsunade said, eyes narrowing grimly. Sakura admitted that perhaps the 'other matters of importance to be discussed once we have all regained our composure' comment _had_ been a little overdramatic of Mifune-dono.

"Accommodations," she said with certainty.

"…accommodations," Tsunade echoed flatly.

"Yes." She rubbed her chin. "It's a pretty tricky situation; nobody wants ninja loose in Ogifu, and that means inns and hotels and embassies are out. So _that_ means that we'll be hosted by lords." She blew out a sigh. "Right now, they're probably trying to figure out just who is responsible for which villages, and whose city estates are properly stocked to receive this number of guests, and which families even have the right level of prestige to host political leaders."

"I bet I know where we're going," Kiba muttered. He wouldn't get any takers, even in this company; that was a sucker's bet, plain and simple.

Tsunade pinched the bridge of her nose. "Well, that's _one_ less thing to worry about."

"So there _is_ some blood connection between Jounin Haruno and the Minister of the Left?" The pale boy finally spoke up, eying her curiously. "I had suspected it, given the intelligence provided, but it sounds as though it is more… immediate than I first assumed."

"My maternal grandfather," Sakura divulged easily, with a tilt of her head back towards the main hall. It wasn't as though he wouldn't have figured it out on his own, especially if they were going to be shuffled off to live with her family. "But the thing with that is, if they don't want to show favoritism, they'll have to put the other villages up in quarters of equal standing."

"To be a fly on _that_ wall," Kurenai murmured, no doubt thinking of how delicately one might tiptoe around claiming to be Haruno Hideki's _equal_ in any sense.

They fell into a thoughtful silence, then, because none of them really considered the room secure enough for deeper speculation, and the two ANBU operatives acting as Tsunade's bookends hadn't said a word since they left Konoha. Soon enough, they were called back, and Sakura was shown to be right. Just like she always was.

"In deference to the recent threat to the Kazekage's life, I will personally ensure the safety of him and his shinobi for the duration of this Summit," Mifune-dono declared, and Sakura bit back an ugly laugh. It was an elegant maneuver; being hosted by the leader of a country was a great honor, but being taken in as a _ward_ of sorts diminished it greatly.

"Yes." Sanada smiled pleasantly. He was very pretty, for a man. "I would be most pleased to offer up my own hospitality to the ninja of Iwagakure and Kumogakure."

"Konohagakure and Kirigakure will fear and want for nothing while in my care." It sounded more like a post-trial sentence than an offer, but Sakura felt the weight of her grandfather's gaze linger on her warmly. It was all she could do not to smile as something in her unfurled at the sense of _almost home_ that was starting to creep through her chest.

Konoha was her home too, but _this_ home was one she hadn't seen for over half a decade. She could be forgiven for a little eagerness, she thought.

Keeping a lid on her excitement was not as simple a process as it really should be, but it kept her occupied for the remainder of the long, drawn out opening remarks and renewed vows of nonaggression that tradition and necessity dictated they go through.

It was all she could do not to bounce excitedly on the balls of her feet as Tsunade finally rejoined them at the end of the meeting, hat in hand. They drifted towards the Mist contingent as the samurai filed out, and Sakura tried to catch a glimpse of her cousin—but no, it was futile. He was already gone, and she would be seeing him at dinner, regardless.

"Terumi Mei," Tsunade said pleasantly, snapping Sakura from her thoughts. "I've heard good things about you."

"I could say the same, Senju Tsunade." The Mizukage was, in a word, a bombshell. From the style of her hair to the tips of her toes, she was a woman who oozed sex appeal and power. Sakura might have been jealous, if years with Kurenai, Hinata, Ino and Tsunade herself hadn't desensitized her already.

Sakura had her own charms, and played to them. _Femme fatale_ just didn't happen to be the image nature intended for her, and she had accepted that.

"—will we be needing an escort?" Tsunade was talking to her. Sakura silently cursed at how scatterbrained she was being, but thankfully her glasses and practiced blankness saved her as she scrambled for an answer.

"It's delicate," she deliberated. "I _could_ guide you there, but that would send entirely the wrong message. Best to wait for a retainer."

"Indeed," agreed Honjou, materializing out of a nearby alcove like the wily old bastard he was. While every other shinobi present tensed like a bowstring ready to fire, Sakura was still; she was surprised, yes, but Honjou often accompanied her uncle Hajime when he came visiting, and after about six consistent years of all but jumping out of her skin, her body had essentially given up on reacting to him. "Ojou-sama is entirely correct. Please, allow this unworthy Honjou to show you the way to the Haruno clan's city estate."

Bless his canny old heart. Her grandfather's aide had finally given her a definite line to stand on; for the moment, she was not 'Sakura-hime' of clan Haruno. She was marginally, but very importantly, separated through a looping hierarchy of loyalty.

Given that he had called her 'Sakura-hime' without pause or exception for as long as she could remember, she suspected this was only a temporary allowance, and perhaps went no deeper than lip-service. But it was sweet of him to make the effort, all the same.

"If you have no objections…?" Tsunade looked to the Mizukage. Sakura remembered, belatedly, that the blue-haired young man from the train was in her party, and spotted him again almost immediately.

So _that_ was what it was like for other people looking for her, she noted. Fascinating.

Mei smiled, with teeth. "By all means. Lead on, Honjou-san."

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__2,407_

_**Total Word Count: **__7,940_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__6,667_

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><p><em>Day Four, where we finally make it to Iron.<em>


	5. Picnic

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 5: **_Picnic_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"It is <em>February,<em>" Sakura stressed, passing a hand over her face in embarrassment. "Do we really have to—?"

"It is a full moon, the evening of Ojou-sama's homecoming, and the Kayano and Nagisa households have already gathered. Be thankful," Honjou advised as she trailed after him. "That our young master was wise enough to keep this at a private and moderate level, in deference to the chance that traveling might have exhausted you."

Sakura might have felt affronted at that implication from any other person. "…the circus was delayed, wasn't it?" Her voice was dry.

"Um…" The young man accompanying her was understandably confused. "Haru—er, _Sakura-san_," he amended quickly, still feeling a little awkward about leaping into first-name basis with her. "When you say circus…"

"Indeed," agreed Honjou. "The young master did arrange for a circus, but as they are currently based in Moon Country, their arrival shall understandably be delayed." He offered a thin smile. "I do hope Ojou-sama can satisfy herself with a simple repast alongside her nearest and dearest family members, in the mean time."

Choujuurou looked a little pale—or rather, paler than he usually was. It may have just been the contrast between his normal pallor and the rich, dark hue of the formal robes that had been provided for him. "Is it really okay for somebody like _me_ to be present?" It was not the first time he asked, and he was not alone in his uncertainty.

"Indeed, it would be entirely improper if you were not," Honjou declared, for what had to be the hundredth time.. "Ojou-sama is a young lady now, and to face such esteemed guests without an escort would be utterly insulting." Never mind that they were her 'nearest and dearest family members', Sakura thought with a mental scoff. But, she allowed, softening, the balance of familial warmth and unrelenting court-bred poise was something that came all but naturally to her, by this point in her life. It was only the extended absence from Iron that had allowed her to wallow in indulgences of casualness for so long.

She had argued against the need for an escort with all of her wiles and cunning—pointing out that she hadn't been officially acknowledged as of age by the Clan Head, that she was in no danger of scandal among family, that she was here as a formal diplomat—but Honjou tripped her up at every point, and even forced her to contradict herself, without batting so much as a lash.

Her pickings, such as they were, were extremely slim. Tsunade was too important. Kurenai would be piled with hundreds of questions about Sakura's performance, life, health, secrets, hopes, dreams, mishaps, romantic life, and more. Kiba was right out, since he couldn't be trusted not to accidentally cause a blood feud; Shino needed to stay back to keep Kiba in line; Sai, the pale boy, had been a contender up until the moment she engaged him in small talk and his chances of getting gutted rocketed higher than even Kiba's; Yamato, Hinata's other stand-in, apparently had some friction with her uncle Hiraku, of all people, who Sakura hadn't actually realized it was possible _to_ have friction with; and the ANBU operatives, if they were even male, would not unmask without a direct order from Tsunade.

Sakura had nearly talked Honjou around to letting her bring Hinata, up until it came out that she happened to be the heiress of her clan, and that would have 'Implications'. While Sakura didn't _technically_ mind if her family thought she was dating Hinata, the other girl had sheepishly admitted that her father might actually push for a proper betrothal if that sort of misunderstanding arose.

Sakura hadn't realized Hiashi actually liked her at all, given that the extent of their interactions was a few shared dinners and scant conversations, but she supposed it was a mistake that she had made before.

It really had almost come down to the ANBU, until the Mizukage, who had been watching these proceedings with no little amusement, volunteered the younger of her two main guards. He was—almost unbelievably—one of the Seven Swordsmen of Mist, if she was to be believed. That alone was enough to rocket him up in the eyes of most nobles in this country, and the fact that Sakura had never met him before today would hopefully shield her from most of her family's teasing.

After getting the blue-haired shinobi's stammered approval of the arrangement, Sakura had surrendered herself to the familiar clutches of the Main Family's maids. She had been scrubbed, perfumed, made-up, swathed into a formal kimono, and had her hair tugged and slicked and molded into the latest court style. It had apparently begun swinging back towards more traditional images, which was a relief. Better heavy golden ornaments than some living creature.

Choujuurou had managed to keep his glasses and the strange ear-coverings that went with them, but Sakura had been forced to hand over her sunglasses. The Mist-nin had been obviously interested, but Sakura had just mentioned that she had a first-generation doujutsu and left it at that.

Truth be told, even buried under layers and layers of silk, Sakura felt helpless and naked without the dark lenses to hide behind. Outside of her parents, the only family members to have seen her eyes were her grandfather, Hiraku, Tsutomu and Yutaka. The latter had, eventually, offered a stiff, formal apology over his… _'inexcusably banal response'_ was the pretty little turn of phrase he had used, if she remembered correctly.

That bridge wasn't entirely burned, but the awkwardness still persisted. Sakura wasn't sure what she would do if she had to deal with that from her aunts or their husbands. She was fairly certain Hajime, by virtue of being her mother's twin, would be more or less unfazed.

Still, when they were announced and given leave to raise out of their formal bows, she felt a shiver of uncertainty skitter down her spine. The hall was dead silent, and her relatives were all staring at her, faces utterly unreadable.

"She's really pretty!" One of Tsubaki's sons, she believed, intended to whisper that to his brothers. In the grave silence of the room, it was carried much farther than he likely intended, and Sakura raised a long sleeve to hide the way her mouth curved in relief.

"'Course she is," the tallest of the trio hissed back. "She's from _Mama's_ family." Lord Kayano, her uncle through marriage and a moderately handsome, well-muscled man, tried to smother a smirk behind his closed fan. He did not admonish his children, and Tsubaki smiled sweetly when she caught Sakura's gaze.

Just like that, however, the ice was broken, and her grandfather beckoned them forward to take their places at the table on the dais below him, with the rest of the family.

"I trust your travels have gone well, granddaughter," he said, and Sakura's head was not the only one to snap his way. That was a far more relaxed mood to set than she—than _any_ of them—had ever expected him to set. Especially with an outsider present, and the doors to the veranda opened, letting the moonlight and possible eavesdroppers in.

"Yes," she said, letting her hands rest in her lap. "The train ride was pleasant." The mad dash to the border city where the train left from was decidedly less so, but there was little reason to hash over that.

"And you made a new friend!" Lord Nagisa was a jovial man, if a little on the effeminate side. He and Akemi made a striking pair, but it made it difficult to tell whether or not _their _three children were boys and girls. Given the natural Haruno inclination towards flower-patterned fabric and long hair, not even the outfits were of much help, beyond separating them by color.

Intellectually, Sakura knew that Tsubaki's sons were Yuuichi, Yuutarou, and Yuuji but for the life of her she couldn't remember how old they were, just that they were younger than her by a few years; five or six, she believed, at an average, which put them at the six-to-twelve range.

Akemi's children, however, were identical triplets named Mikoto, Minami, and Mitsuru, further dashing any chance of uncovering their genders. She did know for a fact that they were going to be nine, though, because their birthday was one week before her own.

All six seemed to be transfixed on her, but her two closest cousins, Tastuo and Toshio, were far more interested in poor Choujuurou They were caging their father Yutaka between them, flicking glances between one another as they tallied up all the different questions they wanted to ask about him. She'd have to deal with that later, but for now she just admired the way they had shot up and begun to fill out; they were no longer shorter than her, and she thought she saw a certain level of muscle definition on their forearms beneath their sleeves.

"I did," she answered her uncle by marriage, glancing up to meet the warm, sleepy gaze of Hiraku across the table. _He_ had gotten to keep his own glasses, as had Tsutomu, she noticed with petulant resentment. "He's such an interesting find, don't you think?"

Unlike Kiba and Shino, her family seemed to understand her meaning immediately.

"Have you tried him out yet?" Akemi's voice was cool and gentle, but the look she raked over the Mist-nin her niece had dragged to the table was nothing short of searing. "If not, I daresay I hope to watch once you can make the proper arrangements."

Sakura saw Choujuurou's ears go red out of the corner of her eye, and hastened to translate. "We've only _just_ met, Akemi-obasama," she demurred. "It would be extremely impolite of me to demand a friendly duel at the very onset of our acquaintance, especially given the circumstances that have cause our paths to cross."

Akemi's smile became just a little less doll-like, and Sakura was left with the feeling of having passed some sort of test. Sakura hoped that Kiba and Shino were having just as much _fun_ feasting with the Mizukage and company.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Hours later and much ore comfortably dressed, Sakura crept into an old groundskeeper's shack that had been renovated and filled with silks and cushions, two large bottles of plum wine in hand. Her future Clan Head put them alongside something in a pair of round bottles crafted from frosted glass. Not long after, Toshio and Tatsuo joined them, hauling a large sack of sweets pilfered from the kitchens.<p>

Tsutomu pried open one of the bottles of plum wine and took a deep swig, his dark hair falling over his shoulders like a river of ink. "Well," he said, licking his lips and passing the bottle off to Sakura. "If nothing else, it's good to see you're keeping that charm of yours well-honed. Our younger cousins are positively smitten with you."

"Shut _up_, Nii-sama," she grumbled, settling back into a pile of pillows and taking a sip of her own. "I was really nervous!"

"Not as nervous as that _boy_ you brought to dinner." Tatsuo sniggered, biting into a small work of sugar, mocha and bean paste that probably cost about as much as the gulp of wine Tsutomu had taken. "I thought Sofu-sama was going to burn a hole in his soul, the way he was staring the guy down." He chewed loudly and with relish, free of prying eyes or his stern father. "Y'know, when he wasn't _pouting_." He laughed again, this time a little thickly due to the sticky treat in his mouth.

"Sofu-sama doesn't pout," Sakura scoffed, swallowing the mouthful of wine she had been savoring.

Toshio gently tugged the bottle out of her fingers, taking a deep drink of his own. "Oh, that's just what _you_ think. You didn't have to live through the Great Sulk of Midsummer, when you couldn't come up for Tanabata. Or see him when he got the letter explaining that you were going to be on a mission during your sixteenth birthday, away from any and all family members." Toshio, at first glance, seemed much less mischievous than his twin. At least, until you looked him in the eye.

"I still feel like you're exaggerating," she insisted, even as a piece of daifuku shaped like a plum blossom was helpfully shoved into her mouth by Tatsuo. "He sheemed normal 'oo me."

"It's a subtle difference," Tsutomu allowed, reclining next to her and propping himself up on one elbow. "But I thought that shinobi were meant to zero in on those." He cupped his free hand around her cheek, brushing a thumb just beneath her eye. The thin chains attached to the frames of his glasses glittered in the low candlelight. "Or does aesthetic only undermine the real purpose of these eyes of yours? Hmm?" She stayed sullenly silent, until he shifted his hand to pinch and pull at her cheek pointedly. "_Hmm?_ Sakura-chan, you aren't answering me. Don't ignore your Onii-sama, it makes him sad."

"You totally got started without us, didn't you?" Toshio laughed at their elder cousin's forwardness. Sakura had to agree; from what she could smell from her immediate position, he must be at least two or three bottles ahead of them.

"It would be remiss of us to ignore the shining example of our future Head," said Tatsuo, mimicking his father's snooty court-voice perfectly, before swiping the bottle of wine from his brother and chugging a good half of it.

Sakura shrieked out a laugh, pulling free of Tsutomu's hand and shoving away from him. "Tatsuo, you absolute _pig!_ At least enjoy it a little!"

"There's plenty more where this came from," Toshio commented blithely, after poking his twin in the throat to reclaim the bottle. Tatsuo was too busy hacking up the mouthful that had nearly choked him to respond himself. "Really. Tsutomu-nii's wedding is coming up next year, you know, and everybody just keeps sending him case after case of this stuff."

"Wait, for real?" Sakura rolled back over to stare down her eldest cousin. "I thought your betrothal had been broken off, because she was having an affair with some page or another."

"No, that was Ruihime," Tsutomu corrected. "I'm engaged to Akihime of the Onoda clan at the moment." He seemed utterly unconcerned with the matter of his impending marital status, but considering his history with engagements Sakura couldn't exactly blame him.

"I thought Ruihime was the one who turned out to have been a boy the entire time," Sakura said, brow furrowing in thought.

"No, no, that was the Machimiya clan's Yukihime. Er, Yukinori-sama." Tatsuo, it seemed, had recovered. He was soothing the sting of his own brother's vicious betrayal with more dessert. "That one switches between the two, depending on the day."

"I was _sure_ that Yukihime had been the one who eloped with her own father." Sakura was honestly a little distressed at how faulty her memory seemed to be, even in as meaningless a category as this one.

"Foster-father," all three of her cousins chimed. Apparently, it was a correction that had been drummed into them.

"And that was Shion-hime, of the Sakahogi clan," Tsutomu continued. "She was the one who was older than me, remember? I went to the celebration for their son's third birthday last month. They seem very happy together." He frowned at her, suddenly pensive. "Who on Earth is keeping you so well-tuned into my affairs?"

"Hiraku-oji," Sakura said, finally giving in and piling up more daifuku in her lap. _"Duh,_ Onii-sama."

It was _always _Hiraku_._ For all that the man was a splendid poet, he was every bit as much an incorrigible gossip. Sakura still thanked him for his letters, though; it kept her at least a little up to date with family matters.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__2,655_

_**Total Word Count: **_10,595__

_**Targeted Word Count: **__8,334_

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><p><em>Here we have the family reunion when there's a plus-one, and the family reunion when the kids are busy and asleep and the older family members are free to sneak off to drink and binge on the leftover cake and pie. <em>

_Or maybe that's just my family._


	6. Comedy

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 6: **_Comedy_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"They want <em>what.<em>" Sakura pressed a hand to her pounding head, wondering if her hangover had somehow impaired her listening skills. While she had gotten drunk plenty of times during lulls on missions with Kiba and Shino, it was her first time going along with her cousins and she had gotten pulled into their insane pace. She frowned and drained her cup again, looking pitifully at her teacher until it was refilled.

"The sword of Momochi Zabuza." Kurenai repeated, passing back the cup.

"The…" Sakura fell silent, sipping slowly. Her mouth still tasted like death. Death and bile. She hoped Tsutomu and the twins were suffering as much as her; the former had been exceedingly, unusually affectionate last night, so he had to have been well and truly soused. The twins, on the other hand, just deserved to suffer; they had gotten her into no shortage of danger during childhood as she was dragged along on their whims. This, however, was a new facet of destruction. A part of her grudgingly acknowledged that they probably still felt bad about their father's falling out with her and had hoped to jump right back into their childhood dynamic, but by and large the rest of her was too hung-over to be so charitable.

"Sword of—"

"No, I heard you." Sakura knocked back her cup again, and tried to will her brain into not throbbing any more. "Why are they asking us?"

"Because we have it," the older woman told her, voice gentle. "In fact, your own friend was given it as a killer's fee."

"Hinata did _not_ kill Zabuza." Sakura was sure about that much. "It was his assistant she did in, wasn't it?"

"Hatake gave her ownership of the sword after he took care of Zabuza. We couldn't leave it there with the body, not when Wave was still unstable, and in his own stupid, stunted way he probably wanted her to have something to show for her trouble, since the assistant didn't have a bounty."

Sakura hummed in false understanding, then winced.

"Okay, okay," Tsunade sniggered from where she was watching them, and beckoned Sakura over. "I'll take care of that. This is pitiful to watch."

"My cousins drink like immortals," she told the Hokage pitifully, leaning down so that the older woman could reach her head. Rough fingertips grazed her temples, and then sweet relief swept through her. _"Thank you. _You are my favorite Hokage ever. Of all time."

"Even if my great-uncle was 'super hot'?" Tsunade teased.

"I told you that in confidence!" Sakura protested as she straightened up, once more able to speak at a normal volume without wanting to cry. "Drunken confidence. But yes, even then." She stretched. "So, that's just one more thing I need to quibble over with the other delegates, right?"

"Yes." Tsunade nodded, as the door to their suite opened and Hinata slipped back inside, fresh from the personal hot spring set aside for their use.

"Are you feeling better, Sakura-chan?" The Hyuuga heiress had been the one to welcome her back and help her to bed when she slipped into their chambers late last night. Sweetest girl in the world, that Hinata.

"Right as rain," she hooked a thumb at their leader. "Tsunade-sama gave me a patch-up." She smoothed down her obi, and made sure her tanto was securely sheathed. "I am ready and raring to go verbally, emotionally and culturally beat the other sides into submission."

"I'm not sure that's what diplomacy actually _is, _Sakura-chan."

"Well, maybe not _usually_," Sakura admitted. "But these are pretty extenuating circumstances, you know?"

"They are," Tsunade agreed. "And I _did_ choose you and your boys for a reason."

"Right." Kurenai moved to squeeze Sakura's shoulder. "I have every confidence you will be able to do this."

* * *

><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p>"UGH!" The delegate from Iwagakure threw her hands up in the air. "This is so… so <em>stupid!<em> I can't do this any more!" She shoved back from the table with a venomous look and stomped off, her partner muttering desperate apologies and scuttling after her.

They had been two of the few people actually seated at the table that Sakura hadn't known beforehand, but she thought she might have their number now.

Suna had sent forth the puppeteer and his sister which was… interesting, if only because she could make them uncomfortable if she left her face turned towards them for very long. Kiri had sent Choujuurou and his older partner, Ao, who Sakura had heard of and was very interested in talking to later on, back at the estate tonight. The Iwa delegation she didn't know was a father and daughter pair, from what she could tell.

And Kumo put forth Shi, and another blonde. Sakura wasn't sure if Eichi was in Iron, as neither of them could have admitted to being assigned such a high-class mission, but she hadn't seen him the previous day when Mifune-dono met with the Kage and his lords. Shi himself was still older and gorgeous, with a professional, gentle smile and a lilting, easy tone.

She'd have to watch out for him; he was the type of man used to talking people into doing exactly as he wanted. He _was_ a medic, after all; cajoling and forcing others to bend to his will were part of the job description.

"Well," she said at length, clapping her hands together cheerfully. "As our fellow delegates have so kindly proposed it, I'd like to second the motion that we take a break for lunch."

"Thirded," sighed the puppeteer.

"Motion passed," agreed the moderator, who also happened to be the Minister of the Right. He had managed to maintain a pleasant, interested façade the entire morning. Sakura suspected that he knew how to sleep with his eyes open; she knew of a few lords that did so, according to Tatsuo and Toshio. And Hiraku. Hiraku ranted a lot in his letters about ingrates with glazed over eyes who _completely_ ignored the verses he slaved over, and—

Sakura shoved back from the table and fought the urge to push up her glasses and rub her eyes.

If she was recounting her uncle's infuriated ramblings and found it more interesting than the current proceedings, she really _did_ need a lunch break. "Did the Mist-nin want to broach the matter of a trade publically, or privately?" The longer they drew out _that_ transaction, the more awkward things would become at the Haruno compound.

Kurenai glanced around the room, carefully catching Ao's eye from where he was speaking with Choujuurou and the other two Mist shinobi in the garb of hunter-nin that had been waiting in the wings. "I suppose private would be more in line with their interests, in this case. It's bad enough that so many of their Swordsmen have failed to return to the rebuilt Kirigakure; to publically acknowledge that they need to negotiate the return of one of their more important cultural artifacts will be a loss of face that they really do not need at this juncture."

"Didn't Team Seven kill like three of those guys?" Kiba murmured as he and Shino fell in line with the ladies of their squad. "I know Hyuuga has like two more of those fancy swords."

"She _what?!"_ Sakura hissed, turning to stare at Kurenai incredulously. "Why didn't I know that?" She shot a glare at Kiba. "Why do _you_ know that?"

"He only remembers because he shares a name with the blades in question," Shino divulged. "His sister heard it from a Hyuuga she paired up with on a mission around that time. I believe we were on a mission halfway across the continent, back then. It was largely kept quiet, as they did not wish to strike up friction between our villages by intimating that one of our clan heirs had some issue with the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist."

And Hinata was too modest to really boast about that sort of thing, Sakura filled in on her own.

"Well," she admitted. "That at least gives us an ace if we need their support for something later on." She pushed a lock of pink behind her ear and fixed a smile on her face. "Now then, no time like the present." She set off towards the Mist group, exchanging a pleasant nod of acknowledgement with Shi as she passed by.

"Would you care to eat with us, while we have the time?" Kurenai was the one to make the offer; as the oldest, and most experienced of the group, she would come off as the most respectful.

The four shinobi exchanged glances, and then Ao stepped forward. "Sounds good to me," he said, and managed to make even casual acceptance come off as brusque and grave. As they filed out of the room, he broached a double-edged question. "Where will we be eating?"

"Not here," Sakura said immediately, as her eyes fell on the two men who were conversing with Hinata in the Grand Lobby. "We'll, uh. We'll just take a spare meeting room and ask for something to be sent in. Okay, Honjou?" Her voice went high at the end.

"Of course, Ojou-sama," the old man agreed. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since leaving the estate after breakfast, but Sakura didn't jump like the rest of the group. Oh no, she was staying as still as possible while keeping a steady, unhurried pace towards another hallway.

It wasn't enough.

"Sakura," Sasuke called out.

She stiffened, then wheeled around and summoned up as bright a smile as she could manage. "Heeeey, Sasuke!" She gave a little wave. "Good to see you! I thought… I thought you'd be sticking with Naruto, until Tsunade-sama gave the all-clear to bring him into Iron."

"He and Jiraiya took a detour." Sasuke closed the distance between them a few feet. "Kakashi and I were sent in to deliver more information they uncovered.

"Great!" Was that too chipper? That had been too chipper. She tried to dial it down a few notches. "The more we know, the better." She let a small silence stretch out, eyes darting behind her glasses, looking for any out. She found one, and looped an arm through Choujuurou's, trying not to notice how Sasuke stiffened and glared at the Mist-nin. "Me, well, I've got a bit more work to do with these fine fellows, so I'll leave you to catch up with Hinata-chan. We can talk more at dinner!" At her house. Where Sasuke would be staying, and could possibly run into her _family_. Shit.

With another little wave, she began dragging the unfortunate swordsman she had chosen as her shield towards the nearest open meeting room.

"The hell was that?" she heard Ao ask, as they moved through the doors.

"The greatest joke in the entire _world,_" Kiba told him, with feeling.

Sakura fought the urge to pick up the plush chair at the conference table and throw it at her teammate, and carefully gripped the arms as she sat down heavily. She didn't find the situation nearly as amusing as Kiba did; Sasuke's affections, while once something she would have done almost anything to receive a few years ago, were now little more than a particularly awkward and painful development she now spent her time dodging.

"An internal affair," she corrected, belatedly letting go of Choujuurou. "Ignore it, please. I believe we have more pressing business to attend to?"

Ao snorted, opting to lean back against a wall, instead of settling into a chair like his younger partner. "Fine."

"Wonderful." Maybe, she thought, this _could_ go smoothly. And then, maybe this transaction could get them in the Mizukage's good books. The sooner these talks were wrapped up, the sooner they could deal with the actual threat. "Now," she said, crossing her legs at the ankle primly. "Just to get the ball rolling; the sword you're interested in—"

"Kubikiribocho," Choujuurou offered, hands knotted in his lap.

"Kubikiribocho," she continued smoothly, "is currently, technically, the private property of a member of the Hyuuga clan. Now, I _have_ been given permission by that individual to negotiate on behalf of the village, but…" She trailed off, and removed her glasses to offer Ao a gentle, starry-eyed smile. "Well, if you have anything of equal cultural value to offer that the Hyuuga clan might be interested in, we can just make this _so_ much easier."

Ao went very, very still.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__2,075_

_**Total Word Count: **__12,670_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__10,000_

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><p><em>Fair warning, I have two papers due tomorrow, so the next chapter will likely be a little delayed. If worst comes to worst, I'll just release two chapters Saturday.<em>


	7. Rhythm

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 7: **_Rhythm_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Some people got explosive when they were angry. Those were the easiest people to deal with, the ones that got it all out of their system early on, like Naruto. Other people, like Shino, never let their anger show and nursed their anger for days weeks, sometimes even years.<p>

Hinata was one of the quiet, slow-burners, about halfway between the two extremes and all the more frightening for the less than happy medium. Sakura was reminded of this now, as her friend drew in slow, calming breaths, as if preparing for meditation. Her pale eyes were positively glittering, flooded by all sorts or emotions, each flickering by too fast for Sakura to properly identify them. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the arms of her chairs, and Sakura would be willing to lay down money that it was taking all she had not to splinter the antique wood.

"So," she spoke at last, her voice barely a whisper. "That rumor _was_ true."

"It was," Sakura agreed, leaning down to wrap her arms around Hinata's shoulders, pressing her face into the other girl's shoulder. "He doesn't know whose eye it was originally, but the rest of the body was unsalvageable when he found it." She tightened her arms when a shudder ran through Hinata's frame. "He needs to talk it over with the Mizukage, but he's willing to make the trade." She paused. "And, if we throw in Kiba, he'll even give us the base work of the protective sealwork he's been using to safeguard it."

"He'll—" Hinata jumped. "Sakura-chan, I can't let you sell your teammate into slavery for the sake of my clan!"

"The Kiba _swords_ you have, Hinata-chan," Sakura corrected, pulling back to grin at her. "I'd sell my teammate for a half-empty jar of umeboshi, honestly. And I may have given him the impression that we had known a bit more than we actually do, and that the swords are the _nice_ way of dealing with this little… situation."

"Bloodline theft," Hinata actually spat out the words, before composing herself. "It must have been intimidating, facing that sort of charge while facing down two obvious doujutsu users."

"I thought Sensei was going to genjutsu him until his brains spilled out of his ears at one point," Sakura admitted. "But I think that was more because he was talking down to me and trying to dictate the terms of trade at the beginning."

"Is _that_ why Honjou-san was being so cold to him?"

"Honjou can forgive any sin of any member of the Haruno clan," Sakura mused. "But the slightest of… uh, _slights_ against the family will live on in his memory forever. I should probably deal with that," she murmured to herself, standing up. "Before he poisons the other servants against the rest of the Kiri-nin."

"Or you could talk to Sasuke-san," Hinata suggested. "Like you said you would."

"I think I'd really rather just duel a Kiri-nin," Sakura said with a nervous laugh. "Like. Like right now, maybe. And I'm sure I'll be _exhausted_ afterwards, just totally wiped, so do you think you could tell Sasuke why I'm not at dinner and that I'm totally not avoiding him?"

"While you're avoiding him?" Hinata clarified, anger finally giving way to disapproval. "Really, Sakura-chan, you're going to hurt his feelings." She paused. "And… well, he _sulks_ when you do that, Sakura-chan. It's hard enough getting him to reach out normally."

"Well, it's not like I can do anything _else!"_ Sakura threw her arms up. "Because I really can't; it's why I gave up on him in the first place. It's why _he_ needs to give up on _me._ It just won't work, the way he wants it to. I know that and you know that, and Onimeno-sensei has done his best to get it through his thick skull—"

"Sakura-chan."

"—believe me, I would know, he rants _to me_ all the time about wasting his time with Sasuke, like it's my fault—"

"Sakura-chan."

"—but the point stands that even if he _thinks_ a first-generation doujutsu will give way to the Sharingan's genetic legacy, I'm not twelve and in love with him any more and is it really so wrong to not want to risk any of my future kids suffering because of _his_ pigheadedness—"

"_Sakura-chan."_

"—hell, I don't even know if I want kids, yet, and _you_ told me he's been bent on rebuilding his clan since _we_ were kids—"

"Sakura-chan!"

Sakura looked up, startled, to see that Hinata had risen from her chair and was now gripping her hands gently.

"Sakura-chan, it isn't _bad_ that you don't want to be with him." Hinata looked her straight in the eye, as she had discarded her sunglasses on the nearby vanity some time ago, when she had first decided to break the news to Hinata. "That's your choice, and as long as it isn't what you really want, it's the _right_ decision for you to make. But avoiding him is just… it's _mean_, Sakura-chan."

Sakura blew out a sigh. "I know." But declining _nicely_—although, perhaps a little too vaguely—hadn't worked, and her next resort was getting physical about her refusal, the way she still was with Naruto sometimes.

"But you're still going to go challenge the Mist-nin to a fight," Hinata predicted, tiredly.

"But I'm still going to go challenge one of them, yeah." Sakura nodded. "I mean, right now that's the best thing for everybody; Ao's probably not going to be getting very chummy with the servants any time soon, and it's too much to hope Sofu-sama won't hear of it but he probably won't take it too personally. The rest of them, though, they don't deserve that, and there's nothing more honorable than a friendly sparring match in this country. We _are_ trying to promote peace and unity, or whatever, right?"

"You're impossible," Hinata huffed, but a slight smile touched her lips all the same.

"I _am _pretty great." Sakura gave herself a mental pat on the back.

* * *

><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>The dojo was silent, aside from that thunk of reinforced wood meeting, again and again.<p>

"You're very skilled," Choujuurou complimented as they met yet again, her striking, him parrying. He didn't even sound winded, though they had been going at it for nearly an hour, but then again she wasn't actually feeling much of a strain either. He knocked her bokken away and came back up, aiming for her ribs. She slid back a step and slashed downwards to block him, before retreating.

They circled one another, eyes peeled for any twitch of muscle, any darting look, the slightest sign that the next flurry of attacks was imminent. Sakura's blood was singing in her veins, and she couldn't have wiped the delighted smile off of her face for love or for money. She had even foregone her sunglasses, just so that there would be no chance of the odds being any more uneven than they were already.

She had three 'kills' to his five; they weren't using _actual_ blades, naturally, but the practice ones they were using were weighted and balanced just like the real thing, and they each had bruises forming that stood as testament to the other's strength and ruthless efficiency.

He was smiling too; perhaps he was too caught up to feel self-conscious about his teeth, or perhaps her eyes equaled the scales on that front. Whatever the reason, this idea had worked out even better than she had hoped. Sasuke was the absolute last thing on her mind at the moment, and she was gradually picking up little details about her opponent's style as well.

There were a few times where his hands shifted, as if getting ready to grab a second hilt that wasn't present, for instance. It made her stomach churn with pride, because she was pretty sure that meant he was gearing up to take her _seriously_, until his brain kicked in and he remembered this wasn't an actual battle.

It happened again and she lunged forward, drawing him into another flurry of quick, clacking attack-defend-respond-repeat. They had agreed to keep chakra technique off the table at the start, but that wasn't as crippling for her as it might have been for other kunoichi her age. Her mother had drilled her in the family styles for years, and Sakura had actually managed to master them.

Her mother had literally beaten off noble lords that wanted to marry her in her younger days, and Sakura had taken to the lessons like a duck to water. Her missions usually called for long-distance, low-key machinations, but that only gave her more time to hone her close-range abilities.

Team Eight's spotless, if slightly mediocre image wasn't just a testament to their ability to be sneaky. It was just as much a testament to their ability to eliminate any and all witnesses who could possibly implicate them as well.

Sakura's smile grew even more as her 'blade' once again pressed up against the side of Choujuurou's neck—but the triumph she felt vanished almost as soon as it came. Choujuurou was not a short young man; he had at least a head and a half on her, and that meant she had to raise her arms to get at his jugular. This time, he had made her job a little easier, curling down slightly and leaving very little space between them.

Unfortunately for her, he had done so in order to get into a position to stab upwards. The tip of his bokken was pressed snuggly against the inner underside of her left breast, just off-center of her chest and, if she recalled Hinata's medical diagrams correctly, perfectly positioned to slide between her ribs and spear through her heart.

"I believe I would call _that_ an impasse," Tsutomu remarked from off to the side.

Sakura all but jumped away from Choujuurou, suddenly feeling as though she had been caught doing something inappropriate. She had hailed down a pair of maids to referee the sparring session—Miki and Ami, she thought their names might be—but she hadn't even noticed her cousin slip inside. One of the maids had set him up with a richly embroidered cushion and a pot of tea while he waited.

Her pride took a huge battering. She hadn't noticed him at _all_.

She coughed, trying to shake off some of the embarrassment and maintain her smile. "Well!" She glanced at Choujuurou, whose smile had shrunken back to the tight-lipped polite version from the train. "If we take that as tie, that's four-six in your favor, out of ten." They hadn't set a point limit, exactly, but the thought of continuing as they had now that she was cognizant of Tsutomu felt… awkward.

Very, very awkward.

"As good a place as any to stop," he agreed gamely, apparently finding their audience just as much of a deterrent. "Thank you very much for the invitation, Ha—Sakura-san." He bowed, stiff and formal, first to her and then to her cousin before returning his bokken to the rack it came from and briskly exiting the dojo.

Sakura watched him go, and then eyed her cousin suspiciously as she put her own practice sword away. He stood, passing his empty cup off to Miki and gracefully smoothing out his hakama.

"Yes, cousin?" His voice was back to its normal, cool baritone, as smooth and impersonal as river stone.

"I didn't say anything," Sakura shot back, a touch snidely, as she lifter up her long, heavy hair and fanned in cool air where it had been stuck to the nape of her neck with sweat. "I feel like _you_ might have something to say, though."

"Just a bit of advice," he told her, as they fell into step and exited the dojo, leaving the maids to take care of the rest of the clean up process. The slender chains dangling from the sides of his glasses swayed in time with his strong, even stride.

"I am, as ever, always ready to heed my most honorable Onii-sama." Sakura's tone was as dry as the tundra itself.

Her most honorable Onii-sama glanced at her from the corner of his eye and a small, slow, absolutely wicked smirk spread over his lips. "Make sure you don't let our honored Sofu-sama catch you sparring like that, cousin," he instructed.

Sakura sputtered in embarrassment.

* * *

><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__2,070_

_**Total Word Count: **__14,740_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__11,667_

_Only a little under an hour late! Not too shabby, if I do say so myself._


	8. Joy

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 8: **_Joy_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p>"Haruno-san?"<p>

Sakura turned from where she had been thumb-wrestling Kiba over who got to choose what they would order for lunch to find Shi waiting for her. "Oh! Hello again." She offered a bright smile, even as Kiba scrabbled desperately to free the thumb she was still crushing down. "Good work today."

They had actually made progress, this time; leaving the matter of leadership aside for the moment, they had began hammering out the true logistics of maintaining an army: food, medical supplies, and weaponry. It was a bit like pulling teeth, getting each party to hem and haw and reluctantly put down a number in regards to what they felt their village could provide, but even if it was slow it was still a step in the right direction.

Not for the first time, Sakura envied Tsunade. Her leader got to work on simpler issues with the other Kage and Mifune-dono, namely how the disciplinary structure of the combined forces would be administered and maintained.

"You as well," he said, smiling kindly. "I hope you'll forgive the imposition, but you see, my little brother has currently stopped by to deliver a message to Raikage-sama…"

"Eichi-kun is here?" Sakura released Kiba, sending her feral teammate sprawling, in order to clasp her hands in front of herself excitedly.

"He is," Shi affirmed patiently, his eyes warming in amusement. "He doesn't know that _you're_ here, as far as I can tell, but I think I know my younger brother well enough to say that he would enjoy seeing you." He paused, a touch of mischief creeping into his voice as he continued. "He always looks forward to your letters."

"I'd like to see him too!" Sakura said. She felt a flutter of pride at how… _brotherly_ Shi sounded at the moment. Her advice to Eichi over the years had obviously been applied well. "Is he at the Yukimura Estate, or still with the Raikage, or—"

"He's waiting in the lobby," Shi cut her off. "Technically for _me_, but somehow I don't think he'll mind a surprise before we catch up."

"Thank you!" Sakura squeezed his hand and positively _beamed_ up at him, before letting go and darting for the door. She saw Ao and Chojuurou meet up with the rest of the group as she was leaving it, but paid no mind as Kurenai took over and began making introductions. She had a penpal to catch.

She peered over the bannister once she was out, searching the ground floor for pale blond. She found it several times over, before finally zeroing in on the right head and heading down the stairs. She slipped through the different knots of delegates, messengers, and other political footmen, bowing and murmuring her excuses as necessary.

And then, creeping up from behind, she threw her arms around Eichi's shoulders and drew him back into a tight hug. "Eichi-kun!"

He was carefully limp in her arms, likely as a result of killing all his retaliatory instincts. He turned his head slightly, catching sight of her as best he could with his back caged against her front, and carefully smiled. It was small and a little clumsy, but warm all the same. "…Sakura-san."

Sakura squeezed him tighter before letting him free enough that he could turn around, but she kept her wrists draped loosely around his neck. At thirteen, he made it up to her shoulder; given a few years and using his brother as a reference, he would likely be taller than her. Aside from that, he was largely the same, kitted out in a similar white and black outfit to what Shi and the other Kumo-nin wore, still with his hair in a long, loose pale tail.

He ran his fingers through her own long, high ponytail, humming with interest. "You were not exaggerating, in your last missive," he said, at length. "It has gotten quite long."

That was her Eichi. No smooth, socially adjusted conversational starters for _him_, no sir. Sakura beamed down at him fondly. The last time she had seen him in the flesh was about a year after she made chuunin and by pure coincidence; their squads had chosen the same out of the way inn as a pit stop. Since then, they had both grown a lot, and not just physically. She glanced over his shoulder.

"Is this your team?" To say that she had been surprised to hear he would be becoming a teacher when she first got the letter last fall would be an understatement, but she couldn't say she didn't like the results. Being around children his own age had obviously loosened Eichi up. She rested her chin on his head and smiled at the staring genin. "You should introduce us."

The squad was composed, unsurprisingly, of two boys and a girl. The former pair were comprised of a dark-skinned boy with orange hair wearing a strange bandolier and a tanned, green-eyed brunette. The girl was pale, with curly, scarlet hair and dark eyes, and was glaring death at Sakura.

She knew what _that_ meant, and hid a smile as Eichi turned around in her arms. "That much is permissible." He nodded first to the brown-haired boy. "Meet Usui," then to the dark-skinned boy, "Karai," and then finally the girl, who had schooled her expression into something much sweeter once he had looked her way. Sakura remembered those days, with a little second-hand embarrassment. "And Akarui. Team H, this is Haruno Sakura, an accomplished jounin of Konohagakure." He paused, and his voice warmed from its formal plateau just the tiniest bit. "She is also my… friend."

The group of genin gaped. The younger kunoichi looked as though she had been sucker-punched.

It was Karai who recovered first, shaking his head. "Holy c_rap_, teach! Nice going!" He flashed Eichi an impressed grin and a double-thumbs up. It seemed as though he was more towards the Kiba end of the spectrum. And that Akarui wasn't the only one getting the wrong idea here.

Sakura tried to see it from their perspective: an older, pretty (if she did say so herself), foreign kunoichi had all but tackled Eichi and done her best to smother him in affection, and then intimated that they had an amicable history together.

Usui, the tanned boy, jabbed his teammate hard in the ribs. "I'm sorry, Haruno-san!" He bowed sharply. "He really didn't mean to imply anything!"

"Yeah!" Akarui finally chipped in, her voice dripping honey and poison in equal doses. "Sorry, Karai can be such a crude _idiot_, sometimes. It's so nice to meet one of Eichi-sensei's _friends!"_

"Well 'one of' might be stretching the truth of the matter a little bit," Shi cut in, moving up to rest a hand on Sakura' shoulder. He flashed them all another flawless smile. "She's he's oldest friend, at least. Er," he squeezed her shoulder apologetically. "Chronologically, at least. Despite the rumors about Konoha, most of their kunoichi really are as young as they look."

"Careful." Kurenai patted him on the back none too gently as she approached as well. "If you make those sorts of comments too loudly, Tsunade-sama might hear." She beamed gently as he paled and dropped his hand, before turning to her student. "Sakura, we'll be having lunch with some of the other delegates."

"With oden," Sakura said firmly, because she had undeniably beaten Kiba into submission on that front. She hadn't even needed to _watch_ in order to beat him. Akamaru and Shino were her witnesses. She was _so sick_ of eating grilled meat every time it was Kiba's turn to pick what they would eat, and besides which, Ogifu didn't even _have_ a barbeque restaurant like Konoha did.

"With oden," Kurenai agreed. "And a few other options." For the foreigners, Sakura filled in mentally. She hadn't thumb-wrestled _them_ into submission, after all.

Speaking of foreigners…

She squeezed Eichi in one last hug, then bent down to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'm so happy I was able to catch you while you were here," she told him warmly, glancing back up at his brother briefly. "Thanks for letting me know, Shi-san."

"Any time," he told her, inclining his head modestly."

"I'll send another letter the next time I have a chance okay?" She turned back to Eichi, ruffling a hand through his bangs. "Take care of yourself."

"I shall," Eichi promised, bringing one hand up to gently grip her wrist before she could fully pull away. "Please maintain your own health and good standing as well. And, should anybody threaten either of those states—"

"I know," Sakura sighed, squeezing his hand with a smile. "I can always count on you to give them hell for me. Thanks, Eichi-kun."

She withdrew with a little wave of good-by to the still shell-shocked genin, and followed her teacher back towards the staircase.

Sakura sighed deeply, cracking her back. "Ahh, that was nice." She hefted a fist and grinned at Kurenai. "I feel recharged!"

"Good," the older woman said, her voice a little too mild to mean anything good. "You're going to want to hold onto that feeling."

"…we're not just eating with the Mist group again, are we." It wasn't a question, technically. But really, it didn't need to be.

"No we're not," Kurenai agreed as they stopped in front of the same conference room they had commandeered for their previous, private negotiations. She opened it, and beckoned Sakura in. "You remember the Kazekage's teammates, don't you Sakura?"

Sakura beamed at the pair sitting ill at ease near the curtained windows of the room, practically oozing sugar. "Baki-san, Sabaku no Temari and…" Her eyes skipped over the former squad leader, the brunette girl she didn't know, and the blonde to rest on the young man in kabuki paint. "Kankuro, right?"

Her eyes drifted to his left hand. It was crafted from something painted to look like flesh from a distance and dully lacquered. She remembered its fleshy predecessor, twitching even as the fractured metacarpals stuck out and drenched his fingers in blood, sending a puppet careening her way to slice her one last time with its poisoned blade.

Her smile grew more radiant. "How could I _possibly_ forget?"

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,705_

_**Total Word Count: **__16,445_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__13,334_

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><p><em>I've updated my profile with a few things; a couple images to help you picture Sakura's outfits, new models for her aunts, and an updated family tree for anybody who needs a little help keeping all of those Haruno clan members straight.<em>


	9. Vowel

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 9: **_Vowel_

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><p>"Oh." <em>Shit,<em> Kankuro tacked on, struggling to keep his face clear of any trace of just how disappointed he was that the Leaf girl _would_ be joining them for lunch after all. He fought the irrational urge to hide his hands underneath the table, but thankfully a decade of living with Gaara at his worst allowed him to keep still and outwardly unruffled.

Temari shot him a sharp glance, before introducing Matsuri.

That was all well and good for _her;_ she hadn't gotten the bones and chakra paths in one of _her_ hands completely totaled while trying to buy time for Gaara to finish transforming back then. And yeah, that invasion had been a total mess in all sorts of ways, and a lot of their people had been killed.

But Kankuro was a puppeteer, a practitioner of one of Suna's oldest and deadliest cultural techniques, and he had lost one of his _hands._ And, to add insult to nearly career-ending injury, she had survived his poisons. He knew now that killing her would have likely been a terrible, terrible mistake, since she apparently had some ties to the samurai, but for years she had been his own personal boogeyman.

He had tried to follow her career, as a matter of professional pride, but it was an exercise in futility; after the Chuunin Exams and aside from the attempted abduction of Uchiha Sasuke, she and her teammates had all but dropped off the face of the earth entirely. They had earned some field promotion and made jounin a few months back, but aside from that he had only heard of simple, mostly diplomatic missions.

It was terrifying. She had crippled him without touching him, and had chosen to cloak herself in obscurity in the years following. She was either a pacifist or a monster, and Kankuro wasn't sure which option unsettled him more. If it weren't for Chiyo-baasama taking him under her wing, he would have had to retire entirely.

He wasn't certain, but he thought he might be one of the few living people who really understood what a threat that girl could pose.

She certainly didn't _look_ like much of a threat, with pale skin and pink hair, of all things, and he was willing to bet that behind her omnipresent dark glasses were a pair of doe-eyes every bit as disarming as the rest of her. But Kankuro knew better. He had underestimated her, once.

Just once.

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><p>"<em>You?"<em>

There was a certain level of condemnation soaking that one word, and it had been passed around liberally over the last few days. There was a special, personalized little twist for each different recipient.

_**You**__ could barely protect your own village. _

_**You **__ran away from home like a pathetic child for decades._

_**You **__can't even keep your 'brother' within your village's borders._

_**You**__ just barely finished patching your village back together, and it's still a mess._

_**You **__are due to drop dead any day now, geezer._

"Me," Mifune agreed sedately. He had mostly put his name forth in order to break up the flow of posturing and not-so-subtle jabs that the Kage had fallen into yet again. He took his duty as moderator seriously, after all, and better that _he_ was the one to keep peace, rather than Yukimura-kun. Or worse still, Hideki.

Hideki was an excellent Minister, warrior, and such a doting grandfather it came dangerously close to bordering stupidity, but aside from two notable exceptions and his own band of sworn followers, the Haruno Clan Head had little patience for shinobi, as a rule. Mifune privately thought at least one third of his poor disposition towards them was due to the fact that the first time little Sakura had spoken to him outside of baby babble and court-dictated pleasantries had been to ask for his permission to become a kunoichi.

Mifune could still remember the thunderous sulk that New Year's celebration had inspired. Hideki was a mean, talkative drunk. There was a reason Yukimura-kun was his fifteenth Minister of the Right in as many years, and it wasn't the demands of the job. Luckily, his latest candidate seemed to be mean-spirited enough to keep up with Hideki, though he wasn't even trying to hide his amusement from the ninja gathered before them.

"If not I or one of my Ministers, who happen to be as close to impartial as we shall ever get, then who among us shall you settle upon?" Mifune thought longingly of the days when all he had to deal with were internal disputes, while the shinobi warred outside the rigid borders of Iron, killing each other and saving the samurai the time and effort. "Every time we take one step forward, one of you will, without fail, make a beeline back to this issue. Eventually, we must resolve it."

With any luck, the threat of being under samurai control would be enough to force them all to stop their squabbling. It was a sad day, he reflected, when the youngest man in the room was acting with more restrain and dignity than the oldest. Though perhaps, given that the Tsuchikage was the elder in question, it shouldn't have been a surprising result.

Granted, he wouldn't _mind_ having a samurai calling the shots, so to speak. In fact, it was far more to his tastes than handing power over to any of the Kage present. He just wasn't naïve enough to expect to win out on that front when he was outnumbered, moderator status aside.

"…he has a point," Tsunade-hime, of all people, conceded. He remembered her being a much more difficult woman to talk with, during their younger years, but he supposed not having Jiraiya and Orochimaru around as back-up had changed her. "Eventually, something has got to give. We can give ourselves a small extension, but by the time the general negotiations are wrapped up, we're going to need _somebody_ in charge. We've already fairly divided our forces, we only have a few more details to smooth out."

"I suppose the best we can do is agree not to pick ourselves and put it to a vote," sighed Terumi Mei. She was likely the most at-ease with such a process, being the one with the shortest term of office among them, aside from Yukimura-kun.

Mifune glanced to his left, and fought back a groan. Hideki's face was set like granite, unrelenting and unmoved by the signs of progress.

That old bastard was sleeping, damn him.

Mifune closed his fan with a snap, and his Minister of the Left finally blinked, glowering down at the shinobi with a fraction more disapproval than he had before. "Then I shall give you until tomorrow evening to prepare your final appeals, and we shall put it to a vote."

"Fine," ground out the Raikage. A was a gruff man, but still easier to deal with than his father had been.

The Tsuchikage huffed and the Kazekage didn't say much at all, but they both agreed as well. Mifune reigned in the urge to smack Yukimura-kun for the faint laugh the young lord let out. All in all, it was easier to squeeze blood from a stone than keep this circus on track, he thought.

Thank goodness the end was finally in sight.

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><p>"I…" Choujuurou didn't <em>quite<em> balk, but it was a near thing. "S-Sakura-san, are you sure you really want to? I mean, last time—"

"I'm sure," Sakura said, firm and unyielding. "If you don't want to, then that's another thing; I'll find somebody else to spar with. I just really, _really_ need to blow off some steam, is all."

"Oh." Choujuurou considered that for a moment, biting his lip. "Does… this have something to do with that shinobi from Suna?"

"Something, yes." Sakura couldn't exactly deny that; smothering her grudge in sweetness had only made her issue with Sabaku no Kankuro that much more noticeable. "It's nothing that I can't handle, but it's frustrating."

Kankuro wasn't an enemy, not any longer, so she couldn't ask him for a rematch if she wanted to keep things civil. Because, unlike Choujuurou, if she stepped into the ring with Kankuro then only one of them would be able to walk back out of it again. He had forfeited his original match against her before it could begin, and then was able to flee when they did fight, leaving her poisoned and on the brink of death even if their fight cost him the use of his hand.

She wasn't satisfied with leaving the score as it stood, but there was nothing else she could do.

Choujuurou considered her for a long moment, perhaps reading some of that in the tense line of her shoulders and jaw, and maybe that was why he finally agreed. "Okay. But…" He hesitated. "Well, if anybody asks, you _will_ tell them it was your idea, won't you? I don't want to cause any, um, misunderstandings."

"There's nothing _to_ misunderstand," Sakura grumbled, Tsutomu's 'advice' still fresh in her mind. "And there isn't anybody who needs to understand in the first place!"

"There isn't?" Choujuurou was visibly startled. "But, uh… Well, you see, I thought…"

"You thought…?" Sakura goaded him on, now confused as well.

"The, the man, the one who interrupted our last match," Choujuurou explained, gesturing to his waist. "He was… the tachi he was wearing is the other half of the daisho pair your tanto is a part of, isn't he?" He flushed. "I thought… I don't know, maybe the two of you were engaged?"

"You could tell…" Sakura broke off, shaking her head. "Okay, that's an easy enough mistake to make, since we don't look very much alike. He's my cousin," she stressed. "And I mean, my _immediate_ cousin, since there are plenty of in-clan marriages in this country. We each have half of the same daisho because we're the children of the _twins_ who originally split the swords between themselves."

"…oh." Choujuurou said.

Sakura grinned. "Yeah. Oh." She clapped him on the shoulder. "So about that fight…?"

"I'd love to," he accepted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,690_

_**Total Word Count: **__18,135_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__15,000_

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><p><em>30% in. I had honestly forgotten how fast it could go! in this chapter we have a little more information about the friction with Kankuro. Sixty chapters each written in a day isn't enough for as much in-depth narrative as I (or you) might like, but I do have plans for 'Don't Blink', a series of one-shots to help fill in the blanks. But I've got another eleven days (at bare minimum) before that becomes relevant.<em>


	10. Tragedy

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 10: **_Tragedy_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"Baa-chan!"<p>

Naruto burst into the room like a cannonball; that is, with explosive force and devastating impact. "Baa-chan, the village…!" Several other ninja poured in after him, none wearing a Leaf insignia but each and every one sporting the same panicked, desperate look in their eyes. Sakura felt a chill rattle down her spine.

_No._

"Raikage-sama!"

"Kazekage-sama, the council has been…!"

_Please no._

"Tsuchikage-sama, Han-san has…!"

"Mizukage-sama, the squad watching over Utakata-san…"

Sakura squeezed her eyes shut behind her sunglasses. She would be lying if she said that she hadn't expected at least one village to field an attack by this 'Akatsuki', but _all_ of them? Simultaneously? The implications were… not confidence-inspiring, to say the least.

"Report, Uzumaki." Tsunade barked out the order, and Naruto was actually startled into professional coherence. Or maybe he just understood that this wasn't the time to argue with her or blather on the way he usually might.

"The village was attacked," he said, clenching his fists. "Ero-sennin and I only got there once whoever it was had been driven off, but the streets were all torn up, and the old guy you left in charge was—" He looked down. "He and a bunch of the ANBU around him were totally wiped out, Baa-chan." His voice was soft and trembling with what Sakura suspected was either horror or fury.

Sakura was caught somewhere between those two herself. She took a deep breath. Her parents were fine. Kiba's mother and sister were fine. Shino's parents were fine. Asuma was fine, and Onimeno and his wife were fine, and _everybody was fine_. She had to believe that. Until she had her orders, and until she had a target to lock onto, she had to believe that.

She unclenched her fists, and gripped Kiba and Shino's hands.

"Ero-sennin's got a list of…" Naruto's voice hitched as he continued on. "Of casualties, and damages and things. He thinks… he thinks it was a distraction for us, because on the way here we found out the Taki got hit too. They're a lot smaller than us, so they had it worse."

"And they lost their jinchuuriki," Tsunade supplied, eyes still closed.

"…that's what this is all about, isn't it?" Naruto turned his head to one side, expression bitter. Hinata touched his shoulder gently, and Sasuke stayed rooted at his side like a shadow. "They want us. They want—" _me,_ he didn't say. It was obvious that he blamed himself—his absence—for the way things had turned out. Sakura personally didn't think even his long-term reverse-summoning trick could have gotten him home fast enough to be of much help in the fight, but she also knew that self-condemnation wasn't a logical process.

"Well," Sakura said, her voice faint in her ears. It sounded pleasant, as if from far away. Like somebody else was speaking, instead of her. "It's too damn bad for them that they _won't_ get what they want, isn't it?"

Shino squeezed her hand in warning, and she became aware of a low, insistent buzzing.

Ah.

She took a deep breath, calming the furious churn of chakra near her eyes, and offered up a small, composed smile. Naruto and the others were staring at them. "They can be as clever and as sneaky as they want to be." She continued. "We'll still hunt them down and drag those squirming worms out into the sunlight and _crush_ _them_. Right?"

"Hell yeah," Kiba agreed, his voice as gentle as the hand curled protectively around her own. Akamaru leaned his head on her hip, whining softly.

"You should leave that sort of talk to an _actual_ Search and Destroy team," Sasuke said, but when she looked up there was a hard glint of approval in his eyes.

"Yeah." After a moment, Naruto swung an arm around Sasuke and another around Hinata, who went faintly pink. "Leave it to the professionals, guys."

Sakura turned her head, ever so slightly, to look at Tsunade. The older woman shook her head incrementally. This was just one more comment she would have to let slide, at least for the moment. Subterfuge certainly had its place in war, but whether or not Team Eight would be set loose would depend on the quality of their side's intelligence.

Shino brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. _Patience,_ she knew he wanted to say. _Just have patience. We'll tear them apart at the seams when the time is right._

"Whatever," Kiba snorted, rolling his eyes at Naruto. "Speaking of teams, though, what exactly are we going to do now? Is the Summit going to postponed, now?"

"No." Tsunade rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "We've gotten most of the important details ironed out already, and yesterday afternoon we ultimately agreed to make Terumi Mei the provisional leader of our Alliance."

"You did?" Sakura was honestly surprised, at first, but upon further reflection it was a sensible decision. The Mizukage was the one who had served in a war most recently, even if it had been an internal affair. No, perhaps that wasn't fair; rather, leading a faction in a civil war _enhanced_ her as a candidate. She had been forced to minimize losses on both sides and keep the collateral damage down as much as possible, to ensure that her homeland would still be habitable in the end.

They might have had an idea where the main base of the Akatsuki might be, thanks to Jiraiya and Naruto's snooping, but that didn't mean the other side would just sit idly back and let _them_ choose the upcoming battlefields.

"We did," Tsunade repeated, ignoring Naruto as he gawped in disbelief. "I should probably meet back up with the others so we can do one last run down of how the troops will be dividing up, but your assignments will be handed out by the end of the day." She paused, looking around at them. "Go back to our quarters and get ready. It will take some time to mobilize the rest of our forces, but that just means that it will be up to you and the others to start laying down the groundwork."

"Yes, Hokage-sama," they chorused.

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><p>"Your mother is fine," her grandfather told her, one hand cupping her cheek gently, while the other gripped her shoulder tightly. "Your father is fine. He broke each arm once, but I am assured that he has been sufficiently treated."<p>

Sakura took a deep breath and shuddered, leaning into the stately man who had once terrified her as a child. Somehow, it didn't exactly surprise her that he had eyes and ears in Konoha that could report back so quickly. If anything, that expectation was why she had stopped at his office before returning to the estate. Childish as it may have seemed, a part of her had steadfastly believed that her grandfather would have the power to somehow make everything okay.

And he had.

She sucked in another breath, hating the tremble in it, and wrapped her arms tight around his waist. "I don't—" Her voice caught in her throat. "I don't know where I'm being sent, or when the next time I'll see you or any of the others, but—" Why hadn't she turned down that mission, last summer? Or at least the one on her birthday? She felt as though time, which had been lurching by at a sedate, sluggish pace, was now slipping through her fingers, faster and faster by the second. "—fight well, Sofu-sama," she said, doing her best to reign in the emotion clogging her voice.

_Don't die. Please, please don't die._

"Audacious child," he scolded, shifting his hand to pinch her cheek sharply. "I've won more battles than you've even dreamt of taking part in." He eased up, rubbing his thumb gently over the flesh he had just abused. His voice gentled, becoming richer. "Make me proud, Haruno Sakura."

Sakura squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her grandfather held her like that for a moment longer, before releasing her. She reluctantly followed suit, unwrapping her arms and stepping back. She bowed formally, and he dismissed her from his presence. She exited the office, and found the Haruno Clan Heir waiting for her with a few attendants.

He inclined his head wordlessly and she followed him, similarly silent all the way back to the compound. None of the servants bothered to say a word, tacitly following their lead.

It seemed, for a long moment as they lingered outside the entrance of the rooms allotted to the Konoha shinobi, that they wouldn't trade any words whatsoever. Something inside Sakura couldn't stand that thought, however.

"You owe me a circus," she blurted out.

Tsutomu regarded her for a long moment, the chains on his glasses swinging as he tilted his head to one side. "I do indeed," he remarked at length. There was a faint curve to his mouth, and he stepped forward to close the distance between them. He reached out and gripped the hilt of her tanto. "I will make good upon my word."

Sakura curled her own fingers around the hilt of his tachi, privately comparing and contrasting it to the handle of her own sword. "I'll hold you to that." Gently, tentatively, she tilted her had forward and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "…you had better take care, Onii-sama."

"I know."

"Take care of _yourself._ And Toshio. And Tatsuo. They're of age, but they've never—they aren't like _us_, Onii-sama. They've never killed before."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I know." She felt him lean his head against her own. "That is something you never have to clarify, fool." His other hand came up, brushing over her arm. "Don't make me listen to some poison-addled deathbed babble again. I fully expect you to survive."

Sakura sniffled. "I know."

"Good girl." He straightened up, and she followed suit. They released each other's sword and separated, met each other's gaze, and parted. He, to address their other relatives in place of their grandfather, who was still needed with Mifune-dono, and she to her fellow shinobi.

They had their duties, and would fulfill them.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,700_

_**Total Word Count: **__19,835_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__16,667_

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><p><em>The one downside of writing about a team without Naruto and Sasuke on it is that those two are usually where the flashy, pivotal stuff happens. Well, Sakura will be getting some action soon enough, so it all works out.<em>


	11. Graft

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 11: **_Graft_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>The benefits of mediocrity, it would seem, included the fact that Team Eight's only recorded successes were through tight coordination. All three of them had been assigned to the Alliance's Fifth Division, dedicated to 'Special Battle' techniques. Team Seven, however, had been split up; Hinata was needed with the medics, and Naruto and Sasuke both apparently had intensive, personal training that needed to be done in some undisclosed location.<p>

Sakura couldn't bring herself to appreciate the irony, though; no, she was far too busy steeping in her own embarrassment.

"I will not disclose any information that you share in this room," her new commander told her and her boys seriously. "But I do need to know exactly what I am working with." He slid a scroll across his desk, bearing the Hokage's seal and permission to debrief him.

Sakura rubbed her eyes, then gave up and took her sunglasses off completely. "Okay," she murmured, bracing herself. "Okay." They didn't have to give _specifics_, she was sure, because admitting just how deeply they had personally screwed over their other new allies wasn't smart, even if Mifune-dono wouldn't care much for the blight of shinobi. "Well, first things first, what do you know about my doujutsu, Mifune-dono?"

"According to Hideki," and oh, it was _beyond_ bizarre, hearing anybody address her grandfather so informally. "Those eyes of yours have the ability to disrupt a person's chakra flow from a distance, generally resulting in some form of extreme muscular twitch."

"He's not wrong," Sakura said. "My—"

"_Hoshigan,"_ Kiba didn't quite cough. She punched him in the ribs without looking away from Mifune-dono.

"My _Hekigan_," she stressed, "has different effects, depending on just how I use it. If, for example, I use it while maintaining eye-contact, and I use enough of my chakra, I have the ability to snap the person I used it on out of one genjutsu." That had been something they had discovered on one of their first real missions. "Though it also inoculates that person against those 'muscular twitches'."

"I see," said Mifune-dono, rubbing his mouth thoughtfully. "That will come in handy, should we come up against one of the enemy Uchiha."

"Yes," Sakura agreed, before shifting uncomfortably. "Though that can drain me fairly fast, so it would be best to avoid over-using it. We also have a slight edge over that puppeteer of theirs as well. Did Sofu-sama ever speak to you about the aftermath of the failed Sound-Sand Invasion, or my part in it?"

Mifune-dono actually laughed at that, short and sharp. "He may have mentioned it, yes," he said, smirking wryly. "Though much of it, I admit, were uncharacteristically enthusiastic proposals to invade and subjugate Wind, likely for the state you were left in."

Sakura went pink. "R-Right," she stumbled on, trying not to hide her face in her hands. "Right. Well, I faced the Kazekage's brother back then and I—" She chose her words delicately. "—was understandably upset by the state of affairs at the time." She had been enraged. She had wanted to destroy the people who had dared strike out at her home, much like she was feeling now, still simmering darkly beneath her veneer of patience and professionalism. "I overloaded the chakra channels in his fingers through his chakra-strings by accident, and—"

"Destroyed the hand," Mifune-dono finished for her, looking pensive. "And you say this is only an effective counter measure against _puppeteers?"_

"Their work with chakra-strings seems to be a weakness that my eyes exploit," Sakura explained, a touch apologetically. She had attempted to replicate the localized feat, but the closest she had come was blowing off a Sound-nin's mechanically augmented arm during what was meant to be a routine surveillance mission, and the… gory fate of those twins who had been part of the attempt to abduct Sasuke. "Irregular chakra systems, however, are also moderately susceptible. I can't choose the area of… discharge, however."

A base full of seal-marked madmen and monstrosities, with chunks blown out at knees, elbows, sometimes even necks. She had felt bad, initially, that they would leave the world as experiments, but, she rationalized, better to die by a single trial at her hands then be put through even more tests by Orochimaru and his men.

"Much like my other clan members," Shino broke in, sparing her the need for detailed examples, "I have colonies of normal kikaichu, with slightly higher appetites for chakra and excellent ranges for tracking." He paused, and pushed his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I also have several colonies whose main diet includes flesh. Given enough time, they can also work their way through bone as well."

Shino's specialty on their team was time-delayed attacks and making sure that all traces of their presence, up to and including witnesses, were disposed of without a trace. Sakura could see the instant that this clicked into place for Mifune-dono, and he began to view their records and abilities in a new light.

It was insanely gratifying, after only being able to confide in Tsunade and Kurenai for so long.

"Akamaru an' I aren't as scary," Kiba butted in, as though he didn't have an arm thrown over a dog the size of a small pony, who could crunch through a man's spine in one bite. He shook his head in a gesture that would have been humble coming from somebody who didn't ooze confidence out of every pore. Between his propensity for leather and the fact that Sakura was the only one who bothered taking her sunglasses off, he practically screamed rebellion and mischief. "But we can do some pretty awesome combo attacks."

"Combo as in _combination_ attacks," she clarified for Mifune-dono. "Most of them are technically variations of his clan techniques, but they are all very versatile." And very, very brutal.

"I was handed a wet-works squad." Mifune-dono's voice was toneless.

"Sabotage," all three of them corrected, because they _never_ got to say it.

"Really?" His brows rose. "I would never have guessed." It meant they were good at their job, but it never stopped being grating when people said as much.

Well, Sakura supposed as she put her glasses back on, one bright side of war was that they wouldn't have to skulk in the shadows for much longer.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"Choujuurou-san?" Sakura blinked as she saw the telltale tuft of blue while inspecting the newly erected tent meant to serve as the mess-hall. The base in southern Lightning was shaping up, bit by bit, but most of the solid buildings were restricted to the chain of command and supply-storage.<p>

Kiba and Shino went on ahead to get their dinner, but Akamaru stuck with her for the moment. She rested a gentle hand on his head as the young man glanced up from a checklist he had been reading, eyes wide.

"Sakura-san, hello!" He tucked the clipboard under his arm. "And… Akamaru-san, I think it was?" He smiled, quick and nervous. "I hadn't realized you would be sent to this division."

"I thought you had been tapped for the Daimyo Protection Squad," Sakura mentioned. "I would have swung by and said hello earlier, if I'd known you were here."

"I was," he admitted. "But, um," his eyes flicked up to her hair briefly, and a creeping suspicion began to take root. "I was replaced by a more experienced shinobi."

"Did that shinobi have pink hair in a weird style?" Her voice went flat. "Name of 'Kizashi'?"

"Yes," Choujuurou agreed, lips creeping up. "He said he used to be one of the Fire Daimyo's Twelve Guardian Ninja, so he didn't mind going back to his old duties."

"I'll bet he did." Fresh from the hospital, no doubt. Sakura shook her head fondly. "He's a total workaholic, that dummy. Mom's probably going to be pretty ticked with him once this is all over."

"Your father is _Last Laugh Kizashi?"_ Choujuurou gaped at her. "I mean… the hair was—I thought he might be an uncle or something, but… Sakura-san, you are related to quite a few scary men."

"And don't you forget it, Chou-chan!" Tatsuo cut in, swinging an arm around the older boy's neck. "But really, _Sakura-chan's_ the scariest of us all, so you'd better be on your best behavior around her."

"Yes," Toshio agreed, appearing as quickly as his brother. "After all, our dear cousin has the ability to call down divine judgment upon you, should you cross her."

"Oh, that's not what my eyes do and you _know_ it," Sakura grumbled, once again fighting valiantly against the tidal wave of embarrassment that rose up when she saw the two of them. Really, what was the _point_ of her dramatic and personal farewells to Tsutomu and their grandfather if they were just going to end up her responsibility?

It could have been worse, she reminded herself. She could have gone and said all that _and_ ended up in the same division as Tsutomu and their grandfather as well.

"I-Is that so," Choujuurou commented, undeniably a little nervous. Though whether that was at the erroneous explanation of her doujutsu or just being caged in by a Haruno twin on either side was anybody's guess. If they were close enough to start calling him 'Chou-chan' then he had likely been forced to put up with them for a while, possibly the entire two weeks since she had last laid eyes on any of them.

Remembering some of the insane shenanigans they had gotten her tangled up in during their childhoods, she felt her heart twinge in sympathy.

"I'm sorry for them," she sighed, ruffling a hand through her. She had swapped her luxurious apparel from Iron for a much more standard uniform: a dark long-sleeved shirt, black pants, and her jounin flak jacket. The 'Shinobi' plate tied around her bicep felt strangely heavy, even though it was practically identical to her forehead protector.

"No, no," Choujuurou demurred, summoning up another smile. "Really, they aren't any trouble."

"Of course we aren't!" Toshio sent Sakura a hurt pout. "Really, you're so mean to us."

"The meanest," Tatsuo fake sniffled, still hanging off of the poor Mist-nin. "Super-scary and super-mean… you'll never be able to get married at this rate, cousin."

Right. That was quite enough of _that._ Sakura patted Akamaru on the neck pointedly and, bless him, he hopped right to work. The large hound padded over to Toshio first, squirming between his legs and then straightening up, forcing the young samurai onto his back. He repeated the process on Tatsuo, allowing Choujuurou to duck away from the arm clinging to him.

Sakura smiled serenely as her cousins were carted away towards Shino and Kiba, deaf to their laughing protests.

"…super-cunning, too," Choujuurou commented, then hid his face behind his clipboard, mortified. "I-I'm sorry!"

"No, it's fine." Sakura smiled sweetly. "It sounds like a compliment when _you_ say it."

"It was meant to be," he admitted, before going cherry red and mumbling some excuse, walking away briskly.

Sakura watched him until he ducked into another tent, then smiled to herself and went to go find her boys.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,855_

_**Total Word Count: **__21,690_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__18,334_

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><p><em>A little more information about the sordid jobs Team Eight has had to deal with, not all of which was actually part of an assigned mission. And her doujutsu's name finally gets spilled! It's obviously matured a little since it first developed... Also, for some reason this story wasn't filed under 'Sakura', even though I was sure I had set it up like that when i published the first chapter. Oh well. It's fixed now!<em>


	12. Dynamic

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 12: **_Dynamic_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p>A week later, Sakura glanced at the letter in her hand as she paced the perimeter of the base's territory, and pressed her other one over her mouth, thoughtful.<p>

Choujuurou licked his lips, apparently ready to finally say something after stealing concerned glances at her for the better part of half an hour. "Do you mind if I ask…?" He wavered, then seemed to change his mind. "I mean, of course you shouldn't feel pressured, and if it's too personal—"

"I used to be in love with him," Sakura said quietly. The letter felt as though it had been carved from stone. Honestly, it wasn't as though she had _doubted_ that Sasuke would one day kill his brother, not with Naruto and Hinata supporting him, but she had never really considered that his long-term plans would have any place for her. Like Kiba, she had taken his feelings lightly, as an ironic little quirk of fate that would straighten itself out in due time.

Due time, apparently, was running a little late.

"I forced myself to let go of those feelings _years_ ago," she continued, because even if it was awkward it was nice to explain the situation to a totally unbiased third party. She tapped the side of her sunglasses pointedly. "You usually can't mix doujutsu without something going wrong, so once mine started developing I had to accept that we just weren't meant to be."

"Ah," said Choujuurou. "And… he didn't?"

"Back then?" Sakura snorted. "Back then, Uchiha Sasuke couldn't have cared less about me. We only really started being friends in the Forest of Death—it's a training field, in our village," she explained. "It was part of the Chuunin Exams. We got a little closer around that time, and we were sent after some of the invaders together. We made a pretty good team, then," she allowed a little satisfaction to color her tone. They had truly shown their colors as the top graduates of their class, back then.

"And then?"

"And then our teams were paired up for a few missions and—his teammate, Naruto, he's _always_ had a crush on me, ever since we were kids—they have this whole rivalry going on, and things… snowballed, a little bit." Sakura blew out a sigh. "And… well, when he was abducted all of us worked to save him, but I ended up being the one who pulled him out of where he had been bound and paralyzed."

"_Ah,"_ said Choujuurou. His eyes softened in sympathy. "I imagine that left quite an impact."

"Yeah," Sakura shook her head ruefully as they completed another circuit on their watch, waving to Shino and Kiba as they crossed paths heading in their own guard rotation, opposite of her and Choujuurou's path. "I… I tried to let him down gently, when he told me that he… when he told me. It didn't really work," she raised the letter with a self-deprecating smile. "So now I have to be blunt about it."

"And you don't want to be," he concluded, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"Not for the reasons you're thinking of," Sakura knocked her shoulder into his, mustering up a wry smile. "He's my friend, that's all. I don't particularly _like_ hurting my friends."

Choujuurou turned to stare at her, blatantly incredulous.

"Kiba and Naruto don't count," she amended quickly. "They deserve anything they get, those idiots. Besides, I'm _angry_ when I hit them. I don't _like _it." Much.

He hummed, obviously unconvinced, but let the matter drop. "Are you going to write him back?"

"No," she sighed. "No, turning down a marriage proposal is something you should do in person, not in a letter. Besides," she glanced down, frowning. "He's… he's not in the best place right now, I don't think. Emotionally or mentally." Even after everything Uchiha Itachi had done to him, had put him through, aside from the rogue Uchiha running around calling himself 'Madara', Itachi had been his only remaining family. Severing that sort of bond, no matter how much you wanted to or how much it had hurt you in the past, could never feel _good._

Sakura shivered, and made a mental note to give Toshio and Tatsuo a hug the next time they had a minute alone.

"You're a good friend, Sakura-san," Choujuurou told her, warmth creeping into his voice and lending it a certain level of strength that was jarring, compared to his normal timidity.

"Yeah? Do me a favor and tell me that again _after_ I break his heart," she puffed out her cheeks to hide the blush creeping over them. "But enough about my ridiculous life. Your turn!"

"Wh-what?" Just like that, the strength vanished, leaving him floundering awkwardly. "I'm not—my turn?!"

"We've still got an hour to kill, and I'll be damned if I'm the only one who bares my soul tonight. 'Fess up, yeah?"

It was mostly a joke to break the ice and relieve the tense atmosphere which had gathered, but he appeared to take her seriously. He frowned for a moment, brow furrowing, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, nobody really wants to marry _me_, but…" He gnawed at his lower lip, somehow managing to avoid breaking the skin in spite of his sharp teeth. "When I was much younger, I was nearly lynched."

Sakura stared at him. "…what?"

He colored. "It—Water Country wasn't exactly the safest place for people with exotic hair or eye colors back then," he explained. "My mother kept me safe, for as long as she could, but then a plague swept through and… well, she was gone, and people wanted a scapegoat." He forced a weak smile.

"They thought you had a blood-line ability," Sakura breathed, horrified at the implications.

"Yes," he agreed. "Luckily for me, Mei-sama stopped them, and took me in." She had heard rumors about Terumi Mei's abilities, and felt a vicious stab of satisfaction that those villagers, whoever they might have been, had ended up getting victimized by the very thing they tried to paint poor Choujuurou as.

"No wonder you're so loyal to her," she remarked, smiling up at him warmly.

He grinned back, bright and sweet. "It might sound a little silly, but she's the reason I became a shinobi. She was the first kind person I had met since Mother died. I…" His cheeks reddened bashfully. "I decided that I wanted to protect her smile."

Sakura felt her own smile shrink a little for some reason, but covered it up by socking him in the arm. He staggered back a few steps. "You are _adorable_," she cooed.

He puffed out his cheeks in a slight pout, rubbing his arm. "I was _baring my soul,_ Sakura-san," he protested, mimicking her previous tone flawlessly. She laughed and shook her head, and their normal flow of conversation resumed.

The letter didn't feel so heavy, after that.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"You seem disquieted," Shino droned, as soon as she set foot back in the tent their squad shared after her route. Kiba and Akamaru were nowhere to be seen. "And understandably so. Why? Of course, receiving an offer of such magnitude could never be a calm process."<p>

"Yeah," Sakura agreed without missing a beat, kicking off her sandals. "Though really, that's only part of it, you know?" She rolled her shoulders back, and smiled as she padded closer. "I mean, it's also _super fucking creepy_ that somebody decided to impersonate one of my teammates, you know?" She delivered this line in tandem with a vicious blow to his ear, sending him flying out of the tent flap.

She darted forward, ignoring her discarded shoes in order to go in for another punch, which the fake-Shino rolled away from at the last second. She was no Hinata, but Tsunade had run her through the basics in order to capitalize on her brute strength; the resulting crater was about as big as a dinner plate and a few inches deep.

The fake laughed, high and disturbing, as he was still using Shino's voice. "Oooh, impressive. Tell me, how _did _you figure it out so fast?"

"Like I'd give you pointers," she scoffed, straightening up and circling him warily. She wasn't about to tell him that Shino never spoke that way around her unless he was upset, or that the female kikaichu hidden in the center of her ponytail always buzzed silently whenever she encountered him. Those were things nobody outside their team needed to know, or had the _right_ to know.

"Fair enough," the fake sniggered, beginning to seep into the ground. "I'll have to try harder next time, then!" Like hell she was going to let there be a 'next time', she mentally snarled. She glared at him, pumping as much chakra into her eyes as she could at once without overloading them. She expected him to flail, and stop the technique for at least a moment—and that was all she needed to stall him for, because her first punch had undoubtedly garnered all the right attention.

Instead, his chest exploded.

It was disgusting, but not for the normal, blood-and-guts way the results of her technique often resulted in. His 'clothes' paled to a dull white and then bulged out, like mocha being roasted on a grill, before popping with a grotesque, fleshy sound and leaving a strange, white, man-shaped corpse that vaguely resembled Shino half melted into the dirt.

The cavalry arrived just a moment too late to be of much help, squads and squads spilling out into the small clearing. Sakura caught sight of Kiba and what, if the faint tickle against her scalp was any indication, was the _real _Shino, before Mifune-dono swept through the growing crowd.

He glanced almost disinterestedly down at the corpse instead of gaping, the way some shinobi and even her cousins were. "Well caught," he murmured to her, before turning to address the assembly of soldiers. "Shinobi! Samurai! A few moments ago, I received the notification that several attempts at infiltration have been levied against the other Divisions. Jounin Haruno has encountered one, and dealt with the trespasser most fittingly. Know this; these creatures can genetically mimic a person, so you must keep your eyes and ears sharp for any strange behavior."

Sakura gently massaged her knuckles, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she studied the strange, stretched out body. Perhaps, she mused darkly, Orochimaru had joined back up with his old cohorts. Up to this point, it was only his creations and experiments that reacted in such a volatile manner to the Hekigan, even if it did make the 'burst' of its namesake even more applicable.

A hand gripped her shoulder bracingly, and she turned her head slightly to catch sight of Choujuurou, worriedly raking his eyes over her. She smiled, trying to assure him that she was fine without interrupting the still-speaking Mifune-dono.

She wasn't sure if she'd still feel that way in the morning, without the dark of night to soften the impact of her work, but for now it would have to do.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,850_

_**Total Word Count: **__23,540_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__20,000_

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><p><em>So, a little fun fact: 'heki' depending on how it is written and the dictionary I used, can mean '<em>_break, tear, pierce, split, burst__' or '__false, punish, crime, law, ruler__', hence the twins' joke about divine judgment last chapter._


	13. Scarecrow

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 13: **_Scarecrow_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"I've come to steal you away," Hatake Kakashi announced.<p>

Sakura glanced up, spoon still in her mouth, before glancing to the left and right of herself pointedly. Tatsuo and Toshio seemed disinclined to let her up off the bench gracefully, so she heaved a sigh and pushed her meal away, extricating herself by clambering over them awkwardly. The three times she elbowed them were _completely_ accidental, naturally.

"Commander Hatake?" She tilted her head, and her curiosity piqued even more when he waved off her salute. Obligingly, she followed him out of the mess hall.

"You and your teammates are being reassigned to my command," he said, with little preamble. Sakura had always felt a little awkward interacting with this man, ever since Kurenai had mentioned that before her doujutsu had manifested she had originally been slotted for his team. He was a physical representation for 'what could have been', and considering how pleased she was with what _had_ been, speaking with him always left a strange taste in her mouth.

"Because of what my eyes can do to those white creatures," she said, drumming her fingers against the side of her glasses.

"Got it in one," he agreed, his visible eye creasing jovially. "We're more likely to need you near the front lines of Ame than back here, especially since we'll be moving most of our forces that way, soon enough. It's still a little rough, but Naruto managed to figure out a way to sense whether or not a Zetsu—one of those white creatures," he exclaimed.

"Oh, good." Sakura's fingers twitched before she dropped them, glancing around. She could see Kiba using Akamaru to chat up a pretty kunoichi she thought might be from Kumo, and fixed her eyes on the scene as her blood began to pound in her ears. "I, uh. I hadn't realized he had finished so soon. Will I be seeing him once we get to your camp?" And, more worryingly, would she be seeing Sasuke as well?

Never one to miss seeing underneath the underneath, he clapped a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, startling her. "Probably not. He and Sasuke are making circuits around the different bases with the remaining jinchuuriki, drawing off as much fire as they can. You still have time to think of how to break it to him."

"…you seem disturbingly supportive of me turning him down."

Kakashi seemed to age at that, sighing ruefully. "Let's just say… I might have enjoyed certain parts of my life more if I… and others… had been more stalwart in our rejections of our admirers."

Sakura raised her eyebrows, ruffling a hand through her ponytail with a faint, incredulous smile forming. "Well, sorry to hear that. But… thank you." It meant a lot, having the whole of Sasuke's team—even if Naruto's support was less than pure—on her side in this situation. It wasn't just her who thought he was chasing down a bad idea.

Unfortunately this seemed to have only steeled his stubborn ideas.

He shrugged, rubbing his neck in a mirror to her own gesture. "Well, don't thank me too much. When push comes to shove, you're going to be the one who has to make it clear to him, and," here he pinned her with a serious look. _"Believe me_, that is not always the easiest thing to do. Sasuke has a way of twisting what he hears into what he'd prefer it to mean."

"I've noticed," Sakura muttered, pulling a sour face. The very wording of his letter had carried the implication that he had absolutely zero expectations of anything other than happy acceptance on her part. He had seemed to think that she had been holding herself back for _his_ sake, and now that Itachi was gone, she had no other qualms against helping him rebuild his clan.

"With that said, it would probably be better if you kept your young man out of his way for a while afterwards." Kakashi seemed to be attempting some measure of social delicacy.

It was wasted on Sakura, who only turned her head to glance at him in befuddlement. "My what? Er," she furrowed her brow. "My _who?"_

He cocked an eyebrow and made a vague gesture, presumably in reference to her fictitious beau. "You know…"

"I don't, actually." Quite frankly, if this man was anybody other than Naruto, Hinata, and Sasuke's teacher, she might have been a bit creeped out by him apparently keeping up with her love life better than she herself was. She cracked an awkward, forced smile.

"Ah." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and creased his eye in a smile again, social tension sliding off of him like water down a duck's back. "If you say so. Just as well, then; Sasuke might simmer down a little quicker if he doesn't come in obviously second to some foreigner."

Sakura felt comprehension begin to dawn. "Is this about Shi?" He had passed her a letter from Eichi a few days prior, just after she had taken out the intruder—the _Zetsu—_and curious eyes had still been stuck to her like metal filings on a magnet. Somebody, possibly Kiba, had started the rumor that it was a love letter. "If so, then you've got the wrong idea; I'm friends with his brother. He was just being nice, is all."

"He also stared down your top for like five minutes," Tatsuo snitched, no longer pretending that she and Kakashi hadn't noticed the twins snooping after them from the beginning."

"He did _not_," began Sakura, rolling her eyes heavenwards behind dark glasses.

"He _did,_" Toshio corrected, with a haughty sniff. "That _cad."_

"Oh, whatever," she shook her head despairingly. "Whatever the rumors might imply, I'm not dating Shi. I'm not dating _anybody._ And I don't want to date Sasuke either, which is what really matters right now."

"There, you see?" Toshio nudged his brother with his shoulder, pointedly. "She doesn't want to _date _that Uchiha kid. I told you Hiraku-oji must have heard wrong."

"He seemed pretty certain," Tatsuo said doubtfully. "And he _is_ part of the Intelligence Division, and he _does _know Jiraya-sama, you know? I don't think he'd exaggerate—about something like this, at least," he amended quickly, catching his twin and cousin's flat stares.

Sakura felt something like doom begin to well up in the pit of her stomach, writhing and roiling. "Wait," she said, raising a hand to interject. "Wait, wait, wait; are you telling me _Hiraku-oji _knows that Sasuke proposed to me?" She felt her throat go tight. "And he _told_ you?!" If he had let it slip to the twins, who else knew? Her uncles? Tsutomu?

Oh _god_, had he let her grandfather know too?

"Well," said Toshio slowly, after they had stared at her in shock for a long moment. "_Well. _He only asked us if it was true. We, uh…" He blinked. "We hadn't thought it would be. You've always been almost as disinterested in marriage as Nii-sama, you know? It didn't seem to fit."

"Not that you aren't a good prospect!" Tatsuo blurted out, waving his hands.

"Right," Toshio agreed fervently. "You could easily have your pick any day of the week, easy."

"If you wanted to have a pick at all."

"Yes, if you wanted to, for some reason."

Sakura stared them down, arms folded. She waited.

They paled and each took a few steps back. "Sorry," Toshio murmured timidly.

"We'll, uh. We'll just, um, we'll go let Hiraku-oji know there's nothing to worry about." Tatsuo smiled nervously, grabbing his brother by the elbow and helping him inch out of sight. They scampered away.

"What a fun family you have," Kakashi commented, watching them go.

"You should meet my grandfather," Sakura said, voice mild. "He's _super_ fun."

"Well, sure, if you consider a presence like an all-encompassing iron curtain and a glare that could strip paint from three miles away fun," he allowed, scratching his chin. "Then Lord Haruno is just the undisputed _king_ of fun." He glanced back down at her. "I'm still not entirely sure how the hell Kizashi has managed to survive stealing the old dragons eldest daughter out from his nose."

"It was more Mom who did the stealing, actually," she corrected, as they began walking once more. "But according to Dad, Sofu-sama finds him 'charming'."

Kakashi politely pretended his snort of disbelief had been a sneeze.

"I used to think it was just wishful thinking too," she admitted. "Except for some reason Onimeno-sensei likes Dad a bunch too."

"…Onimeno _Kyo?"_ Kakashi clarified, after a moment. "About so tall, red-haired, has the personality of the average wood-chipper, and about the same amount of desire for human contact?"

"The very same," she told him, stretching luxuriously and breaking into a light jog when she felt her scalp begin to tingle from tiny vibrations. "Well, enough about me and my personal life. I'll go let Shino know we're shipping out."

"We're leaving at dawn tomorrow," Kakashi told her, willing to let the conversation drop there.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Against all odds, at dawn Kakashi was ready and even waiting for Team Eight, along with a party of ninja who were either already a part of his Division or being requisitioned the way Sakura and her boys had been. Among them was a face that had quickly grown familiar over the past month.<p>

"Choujuurou?" Sakura tilted her head to the side in surprise, falling into step with him as the party departed. Shino, Kiba and Akamaru had opted to catch up with some Chuunin that they recognized from their old cover missions. "I'm surprised Mifune-dono let you go. He seemed pretty happy to have you in the first place." In many Iron nobles' eyes, the only even slightly 'good' foreign shinobi was one that knew his way around a blade, and Choujuurou met that requirement in spades.

"Oh, well," Choujuurou rubbed at his cheek, smiling warmly and even showing his teeth. It was endearing, in a strange way. "I volunteered, actually. I had to talk Commander Mifune around, but he eventually said it was okay."

"Did you?" Sakura blinked, then laughed. "What, were you getting bored with all the downtime?"

"Not quite," he said vaguely, turning back to watch the backs of the shinobi sprinting in front of them. "If we run into Hoshigaki-senpai, however, I fully believe I can provide excellent assistance."

"Glad to have you here then," she commented, biting back a grin when she saw his cheeks heat up from the corner of her eye.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,760_

_**Total Word Count: **__25,300_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__21,667_

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><p><em>Thirteen up, thirteen down. Fair warning, I have another paper due tomorrow night and I work the morning after, so depending on how productive I manage to be you might not get the next chapter within the targeted 24-hour range. But again, I'll just post two chapters the next day, if that happens.<em>


	14. Rush

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 14: **_Rush_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Glare. Ripple. Bubble.<p>

_Burst._

"Armshot, to my ten o'clock! Someone finish it."

She caught sight of a dark-skinned shinobi lunging for the throat of the pretty woman he had made laugh during dinner yesterday.

Glare. Ripple. Bubble.

_Burst._

It had been the woman, that time. And a headshot. The shinobi flashed her a grin and a thumbs up. "Thanks, Haruno! Ah," he jerked his chin over her shoulder. "Looks like your boy could use some help over there." That had grown into an in-joke of sorts over the past few days; 'Haruno's boy' this, 'Sakura's young man' that were bandied about, courtesy of Kakashi, so she pulled a sour face at the shinobi before darting away.

This time it really _was_ one of her boys.

Shino's swarms were gorging themselves on several white piles of flesh, and two more of the Zetsu were seeping up out of the dirt. Well, _that_ certainly wasn't sporting, now was it?

Glare. Ripple. Bubble.

**Burst.**

"I've said it before and I'll say it again," Kiba cackled, dropping in to rip the head off of the second one, as her victim erupted in a spray of gore. "You've got the weirdest, _coolest_ doujutsu ever!"

"They just make it so easy," she defended, stomping through the already fractured skull that bounced her way. She stepped away and shook her heel daintily, taking a moment to catch her breath. "Really, you _know_ I'm not normally so brutal!"

"Just when you need to be," Shino added, stepping up beside her and straightening his sleeves, as waves of glistening, fat black insects flowed back into his coat. Akamaru barked, low and huffing with amusement as he bounded over. Sakura took this as a sign that the skirmish was winding down, and cast her eyes around the small valley as she rubbed behind his ears.

Every few days they would be bogged down with a short but vicious wave of Zetsu; she didn't know if it was some trick to slow down the travel time of the army as a whole, a blitz-tactic directed towards finding the remaining jinchuuriki among their ranks, or if it was a way to gauge the relative strength of their fighters. What she _did_ know, however, was that she was quickly growing tired of it.

Her temples throbbed insistently as the battle-buzz faded away, and if not for the protection offered by her sunglasses she was sure that even the weak River Country late afternoon sunlight would have been agonizing. As it was, blinking itself felt like a chore, after forcing out dose after dose of chakra.

Technically, she knew it was a bad sign that she could feel a faint tingle in her chakra pathways, like the satisfied burn of overusing an idle muscle. But she also knew Kakashi wasn't likely to scold her, since he was way worse on that front, and Onimeno was a few countries away.

She could push her limits as much as she pleased, and short of Shino draining her dry and putting her under for her own good, she could do as she pleased. Shino was too pragmatic to put her out of commission when she was contributing this much, anyways, and Kiba was as reckless as they came. Granted, it would be an entirely different situation if Kurenai had been here.

If Kurenai had been here, Sakura would have been bundled up onto Akamaru with a cold compress smoothed over her eyes between every fight. The first time she had hit this state during a mission, she had been coddled by her teacher and howled at by Onimeno in equal turns for hours before finally being allowed to go home.

"'Need to be', 'want to be'…" Kibaheld out a hand and wobbled it from side to side with an exaggerated grimace, leaning his hip against Akamaru's flank. "'Feel like jazzing up an average Tuesday'… Eh, it's all the same, really."

"I'm not sure I like what you're implying," she huffed, sticking her nose in the air and moving to regroup with the rest of the squad. Even with the skirmishes delaying them, they were less than a day's run from the Division camp, and she was ready for some scrap of stability. Her three boys fell in line behind her, matching her leisurely pace.

"I'm not implying anything," Kiba snorted. "You're _mean_."

"And Kiba is apparently four," Shino added, shifting slightly so he could dodge their teammate's swipe without breaking stride.

"Behave, you two," Sakura tried to channel a little of Kurenai's natural authority as he caught sight of a familiar flash of bright blue. "If you all aren't in one piece when I get back, we will be having _words._"

"Ditching us again," she heard Kiba harrumph as she picked up speed, heading for where Choujuurou was rewrapping his sword. She bent and kneed him gently in the shoulder, smiling when he looked up.

"Need a hand?" She asked, gesturing to the yards of bandages he still had left to wind up.

He blinked up at her in surprise, then smiled in obvious relief. "Please," he bid her politely. "Normally I use a chakra trick, but as it stands… better to avoid wasting even one drop of energy, right?"

"Right," Sakura agreed, gripping his shoulder for balance as she leaned down to grab the slack of the bandages. He was solid an unmovable, even when she leaned her whole weight on him in a fit of curious whimsy, and didn't comment. He only shifted so that she didn't overextend and trip over him.

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><p>They reached the camp a few hours ahead of what they had projected, but nearly two days later than they had originally intended upon leaving Headquarters. They were met with grim, tight faces, some still-smoking craters, and a party from the Medical Division scurrying around an emergency care tent. Hinata was not among them, to Sakura's disappointment, but it wasn't completely bereft of familiar faces.<p>

"The Akatsuki attacked," Shizune reported, visibly exhausted even as she did a quick inventory of Kakashi and the people he had brought back with him. "They sent at least one member to every Division, as best we can tell. There was one main casualty on their side that we can report on—the bomber, from Iwa—but we took a lot of damage ourselves before he went down."

Sakura slowly clenched one fist behind her back. The Zetsu plaguing them had been a means to gum up the army and create an opportunity, it seemed.

"What's the worst of it?" Kakashi blew out a sigh, rubbing his neck in a way that might have seemed idle if his flak jacket hadn't been torn a day before, leaving his tense back visible for all to see.

"…they took Fu," Shizune admitted. "The jinchuuriki from Waterfall. The others managed to hold their own, but the bomber had that masked man with him; the one calling himself Madara."

Kakashi squeezed his eye shut for a long moment. "Wonderful," he breathed, bitter and low enough that Sakura nearly missed it. "I imagine that Naruto of ours didn't take to kindly to that. He went haring off after her, I'd guess?" His tone practically begged her to tell him he was wrong.

She couldn't. "He took Sasuke-san along with him," Shizune blew out a sigh, and Sakura felt a flare of guilt coincide with the cascade of relief that gushed up within her. That was one more explosive kunai dodged, for the moment. "We haven't heard from them directly in two days, but Jiraiya-sama says that the toads have been keeping tabs on Naruto, and he's fine for now."

"Small mercies," was Kakashi's dry verdict on the subject of his AWOL students. "Practically microscopic," he allowed. "Given just what their ultimate goal is. But mercies, nevertheless."

That left them with three demons extracted, one demon whose status they couldn't know for sure, thanks to the Sanbi's stealth abilities, one jinchuuriki possibly about to become an empty—and therefore _dead_—vessel, and four untouched jinchuuriki, counting the Kazekage, the two from Kumogakure, and Naruto himself. The safety of the latter was, of course, extremely relative considering the fact that he appeared to be dead-set on jumping straight into the lion's den all on his own.

Sakura hoped his super secret training had given him more than a Zetsu-detection ability. For Hinata's sake, if nothing else.

Sakura couldn't imagine what her friend must be going through at the moment. Well, she understood the feeling of riding the hair-thin brink of death, unsure whether or not her teammates had already gone ahead to great the God of Death but determined to see her duty through to the bitter end, regardless; it was nigh impossible to make Jounin without hitting that particular emotional low. But for all that she adored Kiba and Shino, and for all that her feeling for Sasuke had lingered before finally being snuffed out in favor of friendship, Sakura had never had to agonize over possibly losing the man she loved.

Honestly, between her missions and the low profile she had been required to keep—and later, Sasuke's petulant, possessive pursuit—she hadn't had much time for romance. Lee, one of Hinata's cousin's teammates had expressed interest, but it had just never worked out. She had gone on a grand total of four dates in her short life, and none of them had ended in anything more than middling success.

One had been a blind date she had let Ino set up with one of her cousins as an apology for… various things. He had been nice, but also struggling with how to tell his family that he didn't particularly like women. He was happy now, and seemed to be interested in taking over management of the flower shop, freeing Ino up outside of missions.

The other two were with Chuunin, one a year younger than her, and one two years older, both of whom had been scared off by Shino or Kiba, or maybe both of them. Sakura hadn't particularly cared much, at the time. There had been some vague indignation and some violence had been meted out, and that had been the end of that.

The third she hadn't even realized was a date until after the fact. Onimeno's wife Yuuya had asked her to spend the day with a friend of hers who had been visiting: an admittedly pretty-faced boy around her age, with white hair. He had, ironically, been named Sasuke. It had sparked some confusing rumors afterwards, but he had been nice enough, and it hadn't been a bad way to kill time. Nothing had come of it past that, though, to the older woman's great disappointment.

The fourth had been with an ANBU operative, but had been cut off by her being called away for a mission, and she hadn't seen hide or hair of him—she thought it had been a guy, at least, but with the mask and the armor and the ambiguously raspy voice it was anybody's guess—since making her apologies and ducking out of the food stall. Granted, she hadn't ever seen him _before_ he had asked her out to lunch, so it was still a mystery as to whether that person was even alive any more.

Sakura leaned her head against Shino's shoulder tiredly as Shizune began to go into more details about the attack, and let her eyes rest on the tightly rewrapped sword strapped to Choujuurou's back.

She had barely had time to stop to help a friend run some basic weapons' maintenance, she reminded herself sternly. There wasn't a minute to spare on something as silly as being envious over Hinata's yet-to-bud romance.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,955_

_**Total Word Count: **__27,255_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__23,334_

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><p><em>A couple hours late, but here it is. Thanks for your patience and support, everybody! A<em>_lso, it's kind of ironic, but the last time I was on Day 14, I was making it clear that I didn't want to push any concrete pairings or romance for Sakura in TEHI._


	15. Repast

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 15: **_Repast_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Sakura blew on her stew gently, balancing the bowl on her knees, which she had drawn up to her chest. It left her curled around the little halo of warmth that was her meal, and helped chase away the damp chill of the night. It certainly beat having to be on watch for the next few hours, which poor Kiba had gotten saddled with. She glanced up as somebody dropped down beside her, and pulled a petulantly exaggerated face.<p>

"Do you _have_ to encourage those silly rumors, Shi-san?" She pointed her spoon at him, packing as much condemnation into the motion as possible.

"What?" The Cloud-nin shrugged with practiced innocence. "I'm just sharing a meal with a friend of my darling baby brother. I have no idea just _how_ that could be possible misconstrued."

"Right." Sakura rolled her eyes, poking him sharply in the ribs. "Quit it, you. Why can't _you_ get bogged down with dating jokes?"

"Oh, they've cracked a few," Shi allowed, biting into half a loaf of bread. "But it's not exactly insulting if people assume that I happen to be involved with a pretty girl." He paused. "Even if you _are_ a Leaf."

"I'm going to overlook that," she decided.

"And really," Shi continued, leaning back against a nearby tree. "I don't know why you're dogging after this so hard; I'm not that bad of a catch, if I do say so myself."

"Your 'darling baby brother' has already said all there is to say on the matter of your eligibility," Sakura told him. "And from what he says and what I've seen, you're a pretty good guy, but you aren't my type." He was gorgeous, yes, but an enduring relationship couldn't be built on just that. "And I've got family fighting out here, and every last one of them is a terrible, terrible gossip."

"Apparently I've got one of those too," Shi remarked, eyebrows raised. "Eichi did that, really? I thought he was just trying to make a joke again when he started asking for a big sister for his birthday." He rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "Huh. Maybe I should start telling him I want a _little_ sister."

"Don't you dare make this situation any worse," she ordered, prodding him again. He jerked away, nearly choking on the mouthful of bread he had been swallowing. She refused to feel bad about that. "I already have one name on my list of hearts I don't want to crush but have to anyways, don't make it _two_."

"Fine, fine," he popped the last of the bread into his mouth and scooted away, so she wouldn't have the chance of repeating her trick. "But really, there's enough to be serious about without getting worked up over something as small as this, you know?"

"I know," Sakura agreed, finally taking a spoonful of stew. She savored the rich flavor—there _had_ to be an Akimichi taking care of the menu, for it to be that good—before swallowing and rubbing a finger over the lip of the bowl, thinking. "I guess it's all just knotting together into one big ball of stress. I'll work it out of my system the next chance I get."

"You know, you could always just get a massage—" Shi began to recommend, before he was interrupted.

"Is it okay if I join you?" Choujuurou requested politely. He held his soup in front of him like a shield, and his smile was a nervous tilt of sealed lips.

"Sure," Sakura agreed, scooting over so that he could share the large rock she had been leaning back against. He settled down with a slightly warmer smile—a flash of white, but no sharpened points—and quietly gave thanks and began to eat. A strange feeling began to squirm around in her stomach, and she started talking almost without thinking about it. "Choujuurou-kun, this is Shi-san. We know each other through his brother."

"Oh!" Choujuurou looked up, visibly startled. "Um, yes. I think you've mentioned that before." He had been one of the few witnesses to the letter exchange who _hadn't_ blown things entirely out of proportion, but this was the first time they had been formally introduced. They traded nods of acknowledgment, but the conversation fell flat.

After a moment, Shi pushed off from the tree. "Well, good to see you, Haruno. Should probably get back and see if Shizune-sama has any more work for me to do."

"I'll see you around," Sakura promised.

He waved her off as he strolled away. "Just make sure it's for a nice reason, and not amputation or something."

"He seems… nice," Choujuurou commented, once they had been left to themselves and the silence had grown oppressive. The strange feeling in her stomach had grown with every step Shi had taken away from them, and it was all she could do to keep spooning in more stew.

"Well, I don't know about _nice,"_ Sakura said doubtfully. "He enjoys teasing people to get a reaction, from what I know of him. But he's pleasant enough to talk to, most of the time."

"I had a Senpai like that," he mentioned, tilting his head back. His eyes unfocused slightly, looking past the low cliff that jutted up from one border of the camp and obviously reminiscing. "Mangetsu-senpai was the one who held this blade before me," he tapped the bandaged sword laid out across his lap, shifting slightly.

It brought him close enough for Sakura to feel the warmth of his arm seep into her own, and she jammed another spoonful of stew into her mouth, focusing her eyes on her bowl. "You must have respected him," she managed to say in a passably normal tone of voice.

"Absolutely," he said, clenching a hand around the handle of his spoon. "He could wield all seven of the swords; he was the greatest!" He grinned at her, bright and boyish. It was hard to believe he was nineteen, sometimes. "I'll never stop being thankful to Mei-sama for convincing him to take me on."

Her grip on her spoon tightened, almost to the point of pain. Sakura was beginning to worry that there was something wrong with her. "Do you have any friends your _own_ age?" she asked, and could only be privately grateful that the thick broth managed to rob the question of most of its bite.

He scratched his cheek, looking down. "Kirigakure… it's still a little difficult, to really use toss the word 'friends' around there. I have plenty of comrades!" He hastened to assure her as she sat up straight and stared at him, aghast. "There are plenty of people I have fought with and would trust with my life. It's just… it's just that most of the shinobi and kunoichi my age feel as though being a Legendary Swordsman makes me more than human." He shrugged, blushing. "I spend most of my time with Ao-san and Mei-sama, anyways."

"That sounds lonely," she murmured, rubbing a thumb idly along the handle of her spoon. Her bowl was almost empty, she noticed.

"I never used to think so," Choujuurou said, hesitating very briefly before barreling on bravely. "But I think… I think, once the war is over and I go back home, it will probably seem that way." He brought a hand up to cover the bottom half of his mouth, bashful. "If it isn't too forward, I'd like to think… to think that _we're_ friends, Sakura-san. And I think I'll miss that, once we've won this war and parted ways."

For a long moment, Sakura couldn't speak—her throat was tight, and her pulse was pounding. Once he began to wilt around the edges, though, she was able to summon up her voice once more. "Of course we're friends!" She burst out. She leaned into him, knocking their shoulders together. "And you don't have to sounds so final about it; tons of people stay friends, even when they aren't in the same country." Her glasses had slid down the bridge of her nose allowing her to pout up at him, eye-to-eye. "I have plenty of experience with long-distance interpersonal relationships, you know?"

"…I _do_ know," Choujuurou admitted with a soft laugh. "Toshio-sama and Tatsuo-sama have said as much befo—uh…" He trailed off, taken aback by the absolute look of mortified disgust that had taken over her face. "What? What did I say?"

"_Never_ use that suffix with their names again," she instructed him firmly.

"But they said—"

"_Never,"_ she stressed, prodding him in the abdomen. He didn't so much as twitch, but his free hand darted out to grab her had reflexively. He let go almost instantly, murmuring frantic apologies, but her fingers tingled where his had wrapped around them.

"Okay," he ceded meekly.

"Okay," she affirmed, making short work of the rest of her soup. "…so I had _better_ get a message or a visit or something after everything is said and done," she warned him, just to get slightly back on track.

"I think I can manage that," he said, and smiled. It should have been intimidating, or threatening, but for the life of her, Sakura couldn't see it as anything other than gentle. Cute, even.

And just like that, Sakura finally recognized the volatile feeling that had been churning in her gut. It was something she had locked away and shoved to the back of her mind for years, but it was back.

**O**

"Oh my god, Shino," she moaned pitifully about an hour later, staggering back to where her teammate had been quietly reading, nestled up with Akamaru. She flopped on top of both of them, keening. "I'm an idiot. Oh my god."

"Finally clicked, did it?" He turned the page, not even needing to ask about the situation. He had probably been spying the whole time, damn him.

"Kakashi wasn't talking about Shi that time, was he?" Sakura opted for the time-honored tradition of dodging that line of conversation by answering his question with one of her own.

"No," Shino agreed. "Bringing up Shi of Kumogakure simply gave him new ammunition."

"Ugh." She huffed, and pulled a face at Akamaru. "When did it even start?"

"Tomight, or in general?"

"Either? Both?" She rolled over and scrubbed her face helplessly. "I don't even know!"

"Well," said Shino, carefully turning another page. "I hate to approximate, but in general I would pin it down perhaps to the day you dragged him off to your lair and fought to establish dominance."

"We _sparred!"_

"Swords are a _metaphor_," he reminded her. "Swords are _always_ a metaphor. You've said so before yourself."

She had said that, actually, and heaved another groan. "…can't _believe_ this is happening to me…"

"Tonight," he continued gamely, not to be deterred. "I believe it started around the time you arbitrarily began addressing him with '-kun'."

"…_oh my god,_" Sakura began banging her forehead against his shoulder, firmly and insistently. "I think I really am an idiot. Oh my god."

"If it helps," Shino said and then paused, knowing full well that the words he was about to say were not going to help at all. He said them anyways. "Kiba noticed before you did too."

"Oh my _god!"_

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,875_

_**Total Word Count: **__29,130_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__25,000_

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><p><em>Halfway there. Hopefully you guys enjoy the next fifteen chapters as much as you seemed to like the first fifteen!<em>


	16. Bank

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 16: **_Bank_

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><p>"Sakura-chan, you've somehow managed to get <em>even prettier<em> since the last time I saw you!" Jiraiya-sama clapped a hand on her shoulder and grinned down at her, with more warmth than smarm. She couldn't help but notice that he had lost a hand at some point. "I guess it's true what they say about sakura trees and the battlefield.

She snorted. "What, that I gain beauty and vitality from the bodies buried at my feat?" She raised her eyebrows pointedly and crossed her arms. "I think you might have managed to get even less charming since the last time I saw _you_, Jiraiya-sama."

He released her to clutch his chest and stagger back theatrically. Shino carefully dusted off the shoulder he had gripped, and stepped forward. "Jiraiya-sama, we were sent here because we were told you had need of us."

'Here' happened to be the veritable siege at the border of Rain, just shy of the storms ravaging the land. Kakashi had sent them onwards with about twenty other shinobi under the guise of periodic reinforcement to the much larger gathering of troops. Choujuurou had not been among the shinobi chosen then, but he would likely be in the next group. Sakura had bid him good-bye and had mustered up the resolve to hug him once, tightly, before running off to join her team. Which was totally normal and acceptable, because even if she had a crush on him, he was her friend and they were in a war. Just because he made her stomach flutter, it didn't mean that he had somehow become less of a friend, or the chance of one of them dying had magically shrunk.

Those feelings were sweet, and delicate, and still growing, and they could damn well either wither or wait. She had a job to do. Speaking of which, Jiraiya-sama seemed to finally be ready to brief them on their targets.

"I do have need of you," he said, looking serious enough to actually show his age, for once. "About a week ago, I personally identified two of the higher-ranked Akatsuki members, and managed to… figure out the discrepancy with a third. They were war orphans I personally taught for a while years ago," he took a deep breath, and looked up at them all. "I know what you three are. Tsunade-hime let me know ages ago; I'm the person who has been compiling the information you use as a basis for your missions."

"And you're about to give us another _actual_ mission?" It was hard to say whether Kiba was disappointed or excited at the prospect of going back to their professional niche, after weeks of being upfront and in the thick of it.

Jiraiya-sama blew out a long sigh. "I am… I am going to tell you a story," he said. "And I hope, more than anything in the world, that this can be resolved without _you_ of all people being aimed at those kids." Sakura elected to take that as a compliment. "Naruto is away in the Summon's Realm chasing down some… information we need clarified, before we can properly face one of them down."

"I see." Sakura rubbed the neck of her neck, fighting off a vicious, anticipatory smile. It was like a present, she mused. A lovely, lovely present, with an insidious ribbon promising mental torture and ruin in the near future. Akamaru's tail began to eat a happy rhythm against the floor.

"And my guilt deepens," Jiraiya-sama muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn't seem to be interested in changing his mind, however, and soon heaved another sigh. "Okay. I'll start with their names, I suppose. The one that first grabbed my attention was Konan, the girl, but the boys—Yahiko and Nagato—they're where you're going to get a little confused…"

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><p>"Well," Sakura mused as they left the tent, nodding respectfully to the guards who had been posted outside. "That was enlightening." Already, her brain was kicking into overdrive, stripping off the sad and nostalgic skin of Jiraiya-sama's pieced-together tale for the real meat. It was always important to isolate the bias as much as possible while analyzing information, and then account for how much of the bias might actually have a grain of truth to it.<p>

There was at least two decades between the children Jiraiya-sama had known and their current targets, and another decade still between the hot-blooded revolutionaries he had recently learned about and the monsters they would be facing down.

That was fine. They had made more of less in the past, and really, childhood stories were the best ammunition they could have hoped for; weaknesses developed in childhood never truly could be overcome; they were only transmuted. Some people tried to turn them into a strength, or compensate for them, but in the end those little chinks in their armor always endured into adulthood. Suppressing them more often than not, only made them grow. Like putting pressure on a crack in a cup.

A person afraid of the dark would always, in some corner of their heart, feel anxious when the lights cut out. A person who had seen somebody precious to them killed early on would never forget their fear and disgust at the sight, even if they only ordered _other _people to kill and kill and kill without taking up a weapon themselves; their fear and hate would be internalized. One such person, she remembered with a pang of pride, hadn't been able to deal with being forced to confront their feelings and actions, and had taken care of herself with only the tiniest of nudges.

That had been a nice, quick mission. The new leader of that province was a much better trading partner to Konoha, anyways.

In this case, however, Sakura could almost feel the pieces slotting together almost entirely by themselves. A crybaby, one of them had been. The other was likely a loving, supportive friend, underneath the veneer of something inhuman. They had lost somebody unspeakably precious to them both, in one of the worst possible ways.

That _smacked_ of paydirt, Sakura was sure. She just had to turn it over in her head, just a little bit longer. Tweak it this way, spin it that way, ponder the consequences, the marks that death had left on them…

They had been handed their tools, thanks to Jiraya-sama. They only needed to hone them now, and make sure that those weapons found the right marks.

"Hey Shino," Kiba folded his arms behind his head, looking up speculatively. "If Sakura or I ever died, would _you_ use our bodies as surrogate hives and puppet them around in a sick parody of a memorial?"

"I would be lying if I said the thought hadn't passed my mind once or twice." Shino admitted as they strolled onwards towards the mess hall. "However, without proper and immediate application of taxidermy I was forced to admit that such measures were likely to only be sustainable in a very short timeframe, and subsequently banished it as a possible course of action."

"…that has to be one of the sweetest, most fucked up things you've ever said to us," Sakura commented, touched and disturbed in equal measure. "It definitely makes the Top Ten, for sure."

Shino had, after all, said quite a number of well-intentioned, utterly unsettling things in the past. It was just something that she and Kiba and Kurenai had been forced to accept and be flattered by, as his nearest and dearest companions.

"Seriously." Kiba shivered. "Do we even want to know what your new contingency plan is?"

"Ideally, I settled on the idea of stripping the flesh from a section of the corpse, sharpening the bone to a point, and proceeding to stab the one who felled you to death," Shino divulged easily. "It seemed poignant."

"I should have never let you meet Hiraku-oji," Sakura reflected, after mulling over the idea for a short moment. "Really, you were scary enough before you got interested in his lectures on poetic justice." She shuddered delicately.

"He is a master of the written word," Shino protested mildly.

"He's also kind of like a drug trip," Kiba commented, eyebrows raised pointedly. "Like, majorly. And he wears a lot of scents."

"Most of my family does, when they have to go to court," she said, thinking back to conversations she had overheard as a child. "It keeps them alert, and helps them ignore perfumes and colognes that other nobles use that they don't like." And sometimes to annoy nobles that didn't like the scents _they_ chose to wear. Politics was half ambition and half pettiness, from her experience.

"_Neat." _Kiba drawled, obviously rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. "So, are we going to actually go into Rain to get these two assholes, or… or what, how are we doing this?"

"Well, everything we know points to them being able to keep track of us when we're under that spray," she gestured dismissively to the gloomy curtains of rain in the distance. "So we should probably just wait for the next time he or she decides to come out to play."

"Wait, wait, hold on a second here. We're _winging_ it?" Kiba gaped at her. "We haven't done that since we were like, thirteen. When we were still novices!"

"We're not _winging_ it," she huffed. "We've got the information, and we've analyzed it, and we'll analyze it _more_ while we wait. Then, when the opportunity presents itself, we'll do our job. And in the meantime, we'll do our part as normal members of the Alliance, plain and simple."

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,605_

_**Total Word Count: **__30,735_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__26,667_

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><p><em>Say good-bye to Choujuurou for a few chapters, everybody. Team Eight has things to do.<em>


	17. Old

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 17: **_Old_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>The opportunity presented itself, perhaps, just a little bit too soon.<p>

Sakura shoved herself up from the mud, shaking her throbbing head. She wasn't sure if the screaming she heard was an echo, an actual, real-time many-voiced howl, or simply a terrible, gruesome ringing in her ears. They had come like… like a clap of thunder, or a bolt from the blue.

Or had they _actually_ appeared with a clap of thunder and a bolt from the blue? The sheet of rain had definitely been as ill a portent as it was a literal manifestation of their appearance at the border, after all. Sakura couldn't quite remember the specifics; it had all happened so quickly. She only really remembered the rain because it was still pissing down in a shower of merciless, ice cold needles. Blearily, Sakura squinted. She had lost her sunglasses at some point in the initial…

God, could that sort of force even be _called_ an initial attack?

It had been like the fist of an angry god, almost, rocking through the stone and soil and tossing them all around like a bunch of ragdolls. Or trash.

Whatever. Sakura staggered to her feet, her head positively swimming. It still didn't have anything on Kankuro's poison. She could deal with it.

She stumbled once, twice, then hit her stride, regaining her balance and smoothing out her gait as she moved forwards. Left and right, there was—death. So much death. Crushed bodies and twisted bodies and things that were more smear than bodies and—god, oh _god_, was this what Konoha had looked like? Her mother was safe, her father was out protecting the daimyo, but how much had her home _suffered? _After being struck down by the hands of this—this—this _creature,_ this _monster_, this _destruction_, how much of Konoha truly stood?

The faint, desperate fear that had been trickling down her spine with each frigid sheet of rain gave way to something that was undeniably comforting, in its familiarity: rage.

Sakura was _furious_. Possibly more so than she had ever been before in her entire _life_, and considering the things she had done, and seen, and seen done, that was saying something. She was so angry she didn't even notice her half-loose ponytail buzzing, but gave Shino a curt once-over when he materialized out of the mud. Kiba and Akamaru fell into formation at some point, each liberally covered in filth and gore, but she only had eyes for the ongoing battle ahead of them, between Kakashi and Jiraiya-sama, the perpetrators of this madness.

_Targets sighted._

"Plan?" Shino asked, so soft she barely heard it over the hiss of the downpour.

"Complete the mission," somebody said, and it took a moment for it to click that it had been _her_ voice. It sounded cold, and hard. It sounded like a higher version of her grandfather's voice, but she didn't have time to mull on that. There was an enemy. There was a mission. There was a weakness, to push at and prod and tear.

Team Eight had a mission. Just another mission. Just another person, another cause, another country to cut the legs out from under. Because it was their fault.

"…_did we do the right thing, Sensei?"_

"…_I can't decide that, Sakura. But I think you did what you __**needed**__ to do."_

"_All those people—they—it's our __**fault.**__"_

"_No." Cool, gentle hands tilted her face upwards, to warm crimson eyes. "No, Sakura. You can't think like that, if you want to stay on this path. It will only hurt you in the long run."_

"_What am I supposed to think, then?! All those people… if it's not my—if it isn't our fault then __**who**__—"_

"_Theirs."_

_A beat of silence. Then another._

"_If you're going to keep doing this, you need to convince yourself that it's __**their**__ fault. __**They're**__ the ones who were in the wrong. If they hadn't been doing something bad, then you wouldn't have had to do it in the first place. But they did, and you did, and… and it's done."_

_A thumb brushed over her tearstained cheeks. _

"_You did what you needed to do, Sakura. That is all this village—all anybody—can ever ask of you. Remember that."_

Their fault.

It was all. Their. Fault. The bodies beyond recognition were their fault. The one that looked—_oh god oh no please please god oh no oh please no no no no __**no**_—like Ino over there, that was their _fault_. Shizune, alive and struggling over to a felled ally despite her own crushed legs, that was _their_ fault. Jiraiya's missing hand. The chittering screech of Chidori, ringing out once, twice, too many times to be a good sign for Kakashi. Her cousins, probably fighting for their lives somewhere. Konoha, broken and hurting. The dead jinchuuriki.

All.

Their.

Fault.

They had done something bad. Something unforgiveable. They were a threat, and they needed to be unraveled, unmade, so that they could never be a _threat_ again, and that was okay. It was okay, because Sakura knew what needed to be done, and she felt like her bones were freezing and on fire all at once. Just like the first time they had stumbled across one of Orochimaru's labs, and seen the monsters inside. It was okay, because that meant that Sakura knew what she had to do.

And she would _do_ what she needed to do. _They_ would do what they needed to do.

"We'll complete the mission," she said again firmly, and then bounded forward the last few hundred feet to the edge of the vicious battlefield, where Jiraiya and Kakashi appeared to be outmanned and slowly, painfully slowly, on the road to losing the fight.

Sakura gripped a kunai and sent it speeding towards the vessel with shorter, spikier hair than the rest—

And promptly found herself hoisted up by the throat by that very same husk.

She had to admit, in a small, shockingly lucid corner of her brain, that the thing once known as Yahiko's corpse had been lovingly preserved throughout the years. His palms felt rough around her throat, and despite the menagerie of metal bolted into his face his cheeks still looked slightly supple, forever caught at that final cusp between teenager and true adulthood. His eyes were—just as Jiraiya-sama had described. Sakura supposed, to somebody who hadn't seen his or her own eyes morph and warp, it might be awe-inspiring or fearsome, as one might imagine a legendary doujutsu.

To her, it just looked tacky, and that was coming from the girl with _stars_ in her eyes.

Sakura coiled that derision, that hatred, that utter refusal to see this _aberration_ before her as remotely human, and smiled. "So glad I could have your attention," she demurred in a faint, raspy register. Kiba, Shino, and Akamaru were circling the creature threateningly.

What she did next might have been spurred on by the fact that she felt bolstered by that fact, or because she felt galvanized due to knowing that there was exactly nothing her boys could do right now. Or perhaps, like she had flippantly—seriously?—declared, she had opted to wing it. Perhaps she just wanted to see what would happen.

But the point was, Sakura was staring down this sad puppet of a corpse doujutsu to doujutsu, and just maybe that analogy was more apt that it seemed at first glance. If she was very lucky, maybe this would be like Kankurou, or those disturbing twins, or Zetsu.

Sakura pumped chakra to her eyes. More, and more still, as that damned cadaver lifted its eyebrows at her almost mockingly, as if allowing her—graciously, the bastard—to get it all out of her system. Like a cat, watching a mouse struggle futilely against the paw pinning down its tail. And that was fine.

Because Sakura found something, something she could use, and smiled all the sweeter as she unloaded what had to be ninety percent of her chakra out. Something warm trickled from the corners of her eyes, either tears or blood, and she heard Kiba let out a snarl of surprise. The hand around her throat began to tighten like a vice, the cat apparently getting bored or maybe a little wary, and she let her eyes slip shut.

She focused on her chakra, the thick chunk of it wriggling through his strange, strange patched-up chakra system, and focused on waiting until it reached the right Chakra Gate.

_Burst._

The hand went slack and Sakura dropped to the ground, quickly joined by a larger, heavier sounding body. She cracked her eyes open enough to see that _his_ eyes—it was merely a dead man once more, lax and listless—were no longer legendary ripples, but dark and lifeless.

She hadn't stopped smiling. But there was still more that needed to be done, yet. It was like striking into stone with a hammer and chisel; they had identified a flawed area, but there was far more carving to be done before the final product emerged.

"Shino," she murmured, her voice almost dreamy, giddy with the tasks yet ahead. Of the hurt. Hers, and his, and theirs, but mostly their targets'. "Clean up." They only had a small window of time, if they wanted to capitalize on the stunned realization that Pein—that Nagato had _lost control_. Had lost _Yahiko._

It was his fault, really. Who told him to have a technique with a design almost like a genjutsu? She did what she could. What she needed to.

Shino's special colonies flooded out almost as soon as the first syllable left her lips, swarming over the orange-haired young man, chirping and clicking and making all sorts of sounds that were well and truly disgusting if she remembered right, but which were largely covered up by the furiously lashing rain.

By the time that the longhaired, effeminate vessel rocketed over to them, all but radiating fury, he was too late. All that was left of a once great man turned literal figurehead was a skeleton stripped of its flesh, sprawled out and only recognizable by a collection of piercings and a tuft of orange spikes.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,705_

_**Total Word Count: **__32,440_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__26,667_

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><p><em>I don't actually have words for how much I have been chomping at the bit to write these next few chapters.<em>


	18. Power

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 18: **_Power_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"<em>If they find you," Tsunade had told them, at the beginning. The real beginning, at least, the very first time they were pointed at a man and told to ruin him and his business. "If they find out you're responsible, they will kill you. Maybe not directly, and maybe not immediately, but they will."<em>

_They had shifted nervously, but she wasn't finished._

"_It won't be a quick death, I promise you. And the village won't protect you. Do you still accept this mission, knowing this?"_

It was a woman's body, this time, Sakura thought. It was a little difficult, what with the huge cloak and the rain and the savage look of hatred and grief screwing up the face. And all those piercings. Sakura wondered privately if they had any purpose, aside from shock value.

"You know what _I_ don't get?" She asked conversationally, as the new puppet knelt down to brush shaking fingers over the skull that was growing cleaner with each punishing wave of rain. It didn't seem up to answer her, but that was okay.

"What don't you get, Sakura-chan?" Kiba was _always_ up to it. She accepted his hand and let him heave her up, weak and slightly disoriented as she was in the wake of expelling so much of her chakra at once.

"Why go to all that trouble, keeping that body around, if you were just going to spit in the face of his memory at literally every turn?" She paused, deliberately and also to catch her breath. "You must have really despised and resented him, deep down."

The corpse-puppet's head snapped up. That was good. Sakura smiled kindly down at him, just to twist the knife deeper. Ever second he stared at that ruined body was just one more blow battering Nagato down, but it wasn't enough. He was a man forged by hardship, who wore pain and suffering like a mantle of office. Cruelty wasn't going to be his undoing; severing his link with the corpse of his once best friend was just to get his attention, to throw him off balance and put him in a more malleable state of mind.

"You know _nothing_," Pein hissed, and no, that simply wouldn't do. She didn't _want_ to talk to Pein right now, she wanted to talk to Nagato. Nagato, who hid powerful eyes behind long bangs, who clung to brighter children for strength, who was a crybaby with resolve. Nagato, who was like Sakura at his childish, crybaby core. Nagato, who she knew exactly how to hurt and twist to get the result she wanted.

Kiba was thrown away, as if bucked by some vertical horse, and there was a hand fisted in the front of her shirt. Sakura kept smiling. "No, I know _plenty._" She corrected. "Did you think Jiraiya-sama would try to stick his head in the sand, rather than piece things together even if it meant somebody precious to him had become a monster?" She shook her head, ignoring the pounding in her temples in order to assume a look of true pity. "He already made that mistake once. You should know; you welcomed that mistake right into your organization, once."

Those strange, tacky eyes were flashing with emotion. Hesitation, confusion, outrage, the deepening snarl on the body's lips, the fist tightening in the collar of her vest, hesitating between ripping her head off and hearing her out, hearing why she had taken the last vestiges of Yahiko away. _Hesitation._

Hello, Nagato.

"You know," she murmured, with eyes half-lidded as she slammed the next metaphorical knife in. "Orochimaru. Famous renegade of my village? A Legendary Sannin? One of the few people on this earth with the knowledge and ability to _raise the dead?"_ The fingers in her collar convulsed and then dropped her. "_Surely_ you remember him."

Shino, blessed, vicious, unforgiving Shino stepped in then, as she pulled herself up. "Indeed. Truly, my teammate is correct in her assessment. Why is that? Surely, if you truly cared for the man you used as a mask, you would have done anything to see him again. You obviously have no chance of balking at the prospect of sacrificing a life to power the technique, so only one logical conclusion remains."

He was sent flying too, and Sakura knotted her fingers in Akamaru's fur to keep her from swaying on her feet. "You didn't _want _him back alive." She smiled again as she finished Shino's analysis and tilted her head at the skeleton on the ground. "I mean, Shino's colonies didn't have enough time to strip down _all_ the soft tissue, so there are probably still some organs and the marrow left, but even the bones should be enough for Orochimaru. You could still bring him back. But you won't."

Nagato's avatar looked as though it was trembling, though that might have been her own swimming vision coupled with the thick rain.

"You won't," Sakura repeated gently. "Because you're scared. You're scared of what he'll think of you, and what you've done. You're scared he'll look at everything you've done, and he'll hate you." She rubbed Akamaru's neck and smiled down at the dog, because her next blow would hurt more if she wasn't looking at the puppet. "You're right to be afraid, of course. What sane person would forgive the crimes you've committed against him?"

A blur, a yelp, a flash of pain—oh, she had been pinned down. She could feel cold mud seeping into her hair and her clothes, and smiled up at the enraged face inches from her own.

"_Shut. Up." _It was still difficult to determine gender; the voice was raspy and coiled with something ugly. "You know nothing, about me, or him, or—"

"You loved him," Sakura said. "But you resented him too, and you were desperate for his approval and support." She thought of bright blue eyes, a red ribbon, and flowers on a hill. She thought of tears, ugly words and striving for acknowledgment. "That's fine. That's _human_, you know? It's still a form of love, that resentment. He probably felt something similar himself."

She thought of fingers on her temples and beneath her eyes, and tears, and whispered words of reconciliation.

"I am not human." An ugly look in ugly eyes, but beyond that—ah. He was shaken, good. Her triumph was undercut by the feeling of something solid and metal slamming through her shoulder and sinking through the mud, but she managed to avoid screaming out. "I've surpassed your worthless level."

A moment later, she managed to regain her smile, filled with pain, filled with pity. "You're more human than anybody I've ever met," she told Nagato gently through his puppet. "I mean… really, heaping one's sins upon the shoulders of the dead is usually a metaphorical thing, but you've managed to do that _and_ make it literal!"

A bolt to her other shoulder. She choked back a groan, but kept her lips curved and her eyes as open as possible.

"Doing this sort of thing in his name, using his body, you've made him a t-tool," her voice broke into a hiss when her ankle was skewered. She thought she might have more than one avatar's attention now, and very firmly did not think about what that meant for Kakashi and Jiraiya-sama.

"You don't know him," Nagato told her, wildness creeping through whatever weird connection he had with his vessel. "You don't, you don't—"

"I don't have to." Her elbow, next, but she had clenched her jaw to brace for it and her eyes watered a little more, blurring the corpse's face above her own. "If you asked anybody in the world, they wouldn't want to see somebody dear to them bec-… become a _monster._" Her other ankle.

"If you've tran… _cended_… to become anything… it's an avatar of war." Her hand, as she managed to make herself laugh—still gentle, still as sweet as she could muster. "Orphan-generating, pain-inducing, world-destroying _war_. Tell me, then, _e-educate_ me, please. What did Yahiko consider _that_, when he lived?"

No answer, just another bolt: her knee. That was fine, that was fine, she had already disconnected from the pain.

"_The village won't help you, but we won't just let you suffer, either."_

"Maybe it's for the best," she mused. "That you're too much of a coward to face him again and be rejected. From what Jiraiya-sama said, he was a very good person, even in the conditions he was born into. Because of them, even."

No new blow.

"_It's… let's call it a final resort. It takes the pain away, but it basically paralyzes you so make sure you only use it if you're sure you won't survive otherwise."_

"He doesn't deserve to see somebody he loved turned into what he hated the most." She softened her voice, practically losing it among the rain. She stared up into the face of the death she had accepted when she was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, every day she took on another mission.

She had accepted a death like this a long, long time ago, because that was what she needed to do.

And she would _do_ what she needed to do, because all of this was his _fault_. And she could stop it. She could make him hurt, and break, and suffer for what he had done. She just needed to push a little more.

Just a tiny bit more, and she could finally stop.

She looked at Nagato, at what she might have become in another place, another time, another life. She looked into the eyes of a crybaby who lost the sunny best friend who loved and protected him. She looked at him, and knew him for exactly what he was, and in knowing that, she knew how to finish this.

"Hey… Nagato-san." The poisonous seal was spreading, though she couldn't feel the burn on her thigh where it had originally been etched. Her vision was going gray around the edges, and her tongue felt thick in her mouth. It didn't hurt at all, which made it easier to keep smiling. "It's okay that he died and you lived. But… you need to stop doing things that would make him ashamed of you."

She wasn't sure if the rain had stopped or if she just stopped noticing it. The last thing she really noticed was the wonderfully, successfully broken look that entered into those tacky, tacky eyes.

Then she stopped noticing anything at all, and closed her eyes.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,755_

_**Total Word Count: **__34,195_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__30,000_

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><p><em>I sincerely hope none of you were expecting a Naruto-grade Power-Up Punch-Out, because that isn't really Team Eight's style.<em>


	19. Shout

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 19: **_Shout_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>All of Kiba hurt. This wasn't exactly something new to him, since clan training sessions could get pretty brutal with the Inuzuka, but the pulsing burn at the side of his thigh was a pain he had hoped to never know. It was a 'Cut Our Losses' signal, linked to exactly two other seals. Akamaru had gotten out of getting branded by luck of being unintelligible in the eyes of a majority of the human race.<p>

One of his teammates had activated their last-ditch seal. Kiba wanted to pretend for a moment that it could have been Shino, because they had theorized that his bugs could, possibly, eat away the flesh that the seal was connected to, if he got a chance to escape at the very last moment.

But it wasn't. Not even Kiba could imagine that right now, so he focused on lining his shoulder up and popping the socket back in. He had at least one broken rib that he could feel, and he tried to focus on any ache other than the one that signaled that his teammate, his friend, a part of his own little pack, was _mercy-killing herself._

He rolled his shoulder a few times, zeroing on the twinge and protests it made, before breaking into a sprint back towards where he had been launched away. He halved the distance when the burn in his seal stopped, which was arguably _worse_ than the burn, because of what it signified. Kiba swallowed back a sob and capped it with a snarl.

The other seal had run its course. _Retrieval unnecessary. Report back._

He clenched his jaw and twisted his fingers, sensing Akamaru's approach even with the scent-erasing rain thundering down between them. His fingers were already twisting; by the time he reached his partner, the jutsu was complete and then a two-headed, too-heartbroken hellhound charged down Pein, tearing him off of the limp, lifeless figure he was crouched over.

Kiba snarled as they were dragged away from that monster, that murderer, and he simply walked back to crouch next to Sa—to the lost asset.

"…that shouldn't have killed her," he said, and that damn bastard had _no right_ to sound as lost and faintly unhappy about that fact as he did. Not when it was all his fault. He was still blank-faced and the body he was wearing like a cheap suit wouldn't be giving off any scent, even without the rain. One of his cousins had told him that, and it only made him angrier.

"Our mission," Shino cut in, materializing through the deluge with a steady, unhurried pace even as Kiba and Akamaru gnashed and howled and writhed against their unseen restraints. "Was to make contact with you, personally, no matter what. Sakura-san must have made the decision that laying down her life was an appropriate step in accomplishing our goals."

"_We did what needed to be done," Sakura told him, pressing his face into his shoulder. "Sensei said so." She squeezed him tightly, and Akamaru didn't even protest from where he was squashed between them._

"She shouldn't have been able to do that," that _bastard_ said again. "She didn't have enough chakra to do anything substantial."

Kiba wanted to tear out his throat and knew Akamaru shared the urge but no, no, they couldn't do that. Sakura had fucking died to give them an opening, so they couldn't do anything until they had his _real_ throat in their sights. They weren't meant for the frontlines, really; they were decent in close range, but they were _devastating _as support when given sufficient time and distance.

If people got close enough to see them and understand their tactics, Sakura had figured, they were probably in trouble.

"She certainly should have," Shino retorted, and Kiba and Akamaru were probably the only ones present who could sense the boiling, unparalleled hatred churning just beneath that bland exterior. "Why? Simple. She is—_was_ a female doujutsu user. It is only natural that she be outfitted with a suicide seal that could be triggered with the very dregs of her chakra, should the worst ever befall her."

That wasn't the real reason—or at least not the only reason—but it seemed to hit the bastard hard enough. "The worst…" His shoulders twitched. For the sake of Sakura's sacrifice, Kiba refused to consider that a real laugh. "I see. I am… 'the worst'."

"I am uncertain whether I prefer this to a breeding camp," was Shino's quiet condemnation, and oh, Kiba could practically _taste_ how difficult it was for him to remain civil right now.

Their collective patience snapped when that bastard actually reached out to _touch her face_, but luckily they weren't the only people who couldn't stand that indignity.

"_BASTARD!"_ Hyuuga Hinata actually _screamed_, sliding forward out of practically nowhere to knock him back with glowing blue fists. She managed to keep her stance as tight as a drum, even as sobs choked their way out of her throat. If it weren't for her bloodline, Kiba didn't think she would have been able to see through the tears in her eyes.

Her attack had broken whatever technique was being used on them, and Kiba and Akamaru separated once more in order to conserve chakra.

His heart went out to her. If she had just gotten here, but wasn't immediately checking… the lost asset for ways to help then she had probably seen everything with her Byakugan, frantically trying to shorten the distance. She had probably seen _Sakura_ trigger the seal, had probably been forced to watch it creep out and drain her life away.

The rest of the cavalry seemed to be catching up in various ways. Most of them were the muted scents of people Kba had only seen as they were jockeyed around the different camps, but then he caught sight of bright blond and bright blue, and couldn't meet Naruto or Ino's eyes as they burst onto the scene.

"Diagnosis," the part-time medic-nin demanded, as Naruto leapt next to Shino, between the girls and their bastard objective.

Hinata just clenched her jaw and shook her head slightly.

"Dammit Hinata, you already have it on just—just tell me what I can do!"

"Ino." Kiba sent Akamaru to flank their other side. "Don't."

"Shut it, dogbreath," Ino snapped back, hands gently smoothing dirty hair away from Sa—from the lost asset's face. "I have a job to do."

"So did she," said Shino, and Kiba wanted to vomit at the pang of sadness he felt over the fact that with Ino and Hinata there he had no chance in hell of enacting his bone-stabbing plan. It was probably a sign of just how messed up he was internally that the thought even crossed his mind, and he prayed savagely that Pein was facing even a tenth of the emotional hell they were wading through in order to keep doing what they had to do.

Kiba took a deep breath, and caught Ino's shoulder when she lunged towards his living teammate.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"She's too fucking smart to die!" Ino-chan snarled, opting to go for the easier target and grab Kiba-san by the front of his jacket. Hinata heard Naruto begin talking to Pein, low and furious and beginning to leak chakra, but she kept her attention—elsewhere. Everywhere else, really, because there were scores of identical signatures lurking beneath the mud, and Sakura-chan was dead, and the rest of the reinforcements were catching up, and Sakura-chan was gone, and Sensei and Jiraiya-sama's fights were drifting back towards this way, and <em>why had Sakura-chan forced herself to smile at the end?<em>

The worst part of the seal Hinata had noticed and discretely asked about almost as soon as it was applied, in her opinion, was that it froze the facial muscles instead of letting them gradually slacken, peacefully. So Sakura-chan had smiled and would _keep _smiling, and it was somehow a thousand times worse than a mask of agony or despair.

"We have incoming below," Hinata reported dutifully, ignoring the heated, hateful words spilling between Ino-chan and Kiba-san, and the raised voices coming from past them, where Naruto-kun was facing down her friend's murderer. She stepped back, slightly, as the grotesque white forms began to heave themselves out of the churned up, muddy ground, and settled into a stance that felt as natural as breathing.

She was the Heiress of the Ultimate Defense, and by god she would _defend_, even if all that was left to defend was a cold body_. _She set her jaw as the first attack came, and started the technique.

_She had never really interacted much at all with Sakura-san before, aside from a few meekly jealous glances here and there over how much of Naruto-kun's attention was always heaped upon her. Her heart fluttered at the thought of him; he would really be her teammate! Sure, she had hoped and prayed, but…_

_Her heart felt like it was about to burst, and she quickly shuffled down the aisle. She was caught totally off-guard when Sakura paused and, instead of merely passing her and leaving with her teammates, reached out and took her hand. Hinata hadn't held anybody's hand for a few years, since Hanabi had grown up enough to view it as childish, and for a stunned moment she could only relish the firm, soft warmth of the other girl's grip._

_Sakura-san looked as though she had something she wanted to say, but wasn't sure quite how to put it. After a second, she merely squeezed Hinata's hand and smiled encouragingly, before finally moving on._

_Hinata gripped over where she had, as if attempting to preserve that sudden, unexpected warmth, and tried to catch up to Naruto-kun and Sasuke-san._

After everything, she mused, sliding through smoothly to close off the tenketsu of one Zetsu that got too close, then heaving him up as a meat shield against an attack from one of his brethren. After everything Sakura-chan had done for her, given her, this was the least Hinata could do.

"_Can you keep a secret, Hinata-chan?"_

The Allied Forces clashed once more with a wave of white. Naruto-kun and the others were further away now, so it was a little easier to concentrate. He would deal with that man, she was sure, but for the first time ever she found herself torn over his natural, inexhaustible kindness.

"_I'm fine. I wasn't the target. They didn't do anything to me. You know that."_

Sakura-chan had been kind as well. Sakura-chan had been kind, and capable, and somehow Hinata had always dreaded that it would end like this, with Sakura caught at the crossroads of those two traits. Hinata knew that Team Eight wasn't what they appeared; normal, average squads didn't merit suicide seals, after all.

"_I'm so fucked up, Hinata-chan."_

Sakura-chan had loved her home, and taken pride in her work, but there had always been the weight of enjoyment warring with shame heaped onto her shoulders. Hinata knew she couldn't pry, Hokage's apprentice or not, and had tried to just be there however else she could, to support her friend.

"…_I don't know what I'd do without you, sometimes."_

But maybe, maybe that had been a mistake, no matter _what_ Ino-chan said. Maybe Ino-chan wouldn't say that now. Not with that seal finally spent, and Sakura-chan smiling, smiling, _smiling_ up at that murderer forevermore. Maybe Hinata shouldn't have supported her at all, should have urged her to change or waver in her path.

"_I'm back, Hinata-chan!"_

No, that was wrong; Naruto-kun wouldn't wish that, so Hinata shouldn't have either. Sakura-chan was amazing; she was dedicated, and loving, and strong enough to… to do whatever had to be done.

"_That's great! Hold on, I need to go brag about how awesome you are—no, no, no blushing! No swaying! Hinata-ch—!"_

…Hinata had never realized how much she hated that expression, for all that it was Sakura-chan's crutch during missions. Maybe it was _because_ it was Sakura-chan's crutch that she hated it.

"_Hey Hinata-chan, you know what we should totally do?"_

Sakura-chan was gone because of that ideology, after all. She was gone, and in that moment Hinata felt as though she would never, ever feel warm again.

"—_don't you think, Hinata-chan?"_

"_That was a close one, Hinata-chan."_

"_Way to go Hinata-chan."_

"_Hinata-chan!  
><em>

"_Hinata-chan?"_

"Hyuuga-san?" A gentle voice shook her from her musings, even as her body continued to move through each form, seamless and flowing. It was a voice unfit for the backdrop of carnage around them, unfit for the state of Sakura-chan, still laid out beside her. Hinata looked without turning her head and found Choujuurou of the Mist standing there, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge him.

He was too calm for the situation, with a mild, sad look in his eyes. His sword was out and occasionally he would decimate any Zetsu that tried to creep up on them.

"Yes, Choujuurou-san?" Her voice sounded rough with grief, transposed against those soft, even tones of his.

"If you'd excuse me, I'd like to pay my respects." He gestured to Sakura-chan's body and skewered a misshapen Zetsu in the same movement, bringing it around for a clean swipe that sent the resultant two halves flying.

Hinata was sorely tempted to actually turn around to pin him with an incredulous stare, if it wouldn't be a gigantic opening. "And you can't do that from a distance?" It was a struggle, maintaining her polite tone, and for once not just because his partner had somehow stolen a Byakugan eye. She hand no idea what she would do if he disturbed Sakura-chan's body, even in a reverential way.

She hadn't actually planned to attack Pein, after all. But he had had the _gall_ to lay hands on Sakura-chan after pinning her down like some insect, and something in Hinata had just _snapped_. She had since knocked away the bolts, but it didn't pretty up the final picture at all.

"I'm afraid not," Choujuurou of the Mist said, again very meek and apologetic. Hinata fought the urge to sigh in frustration or worse, tell him off, because… because Sakura-chan was allowed to have other friends. Had been allowed. Hinata wasn't the only one with grief to burn off.

She widened her cycle and he slipped into the range of her protection, kneeling down next to Sakura, and leaning forward slightly, shielding her body from the torrential downpour with his body for a moment. He began saying something, in low tones, and Hinata respectfully did not listen. He was lucky that she was more charitable than Ino-chan, who had been physically dragged out of the thick of things by Chouji-san, to tend to the other survivors of the initial attack.

Her charity very nearly ran dry when Choujuurou of the Mist gently pressed his forehead to Sakura-chan's, then sat up and reached for her belt. But—no, he merely unsheathed the beautiful tanto Sakura kept with her at all times, and carefully placed it between his serrated teeth.

Hinat was reminded, viscerally, of the day of her first kill. Of a member of the group this young man belonged to looking down gently on the boy who had tried to kill Hinata's teammates and gotten his comeuppance in a freak twist of probability. His figure seemed to ghost over Choujuurou of the Mist's as he separated the two segments of his blade, nodded in her direction thankfully, and bolted back into the fray, cutting a frantic, bloody swathe through the enemies that seemed, at the moment, to be endless.

Once he hit them, Hinata mentally apologized for thinking him composed. He was fluid and savage, venting his grief slash after slash, swapping one of his blades' hilts for the tanto every now and again, killing, killing, killing…

Yes, Hinata could understand that sentiment perfectly.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Ero-sennin was crying. It was hard, but Naruto awkwardly looked away, fist clenched in the front of his shirt. He had no idea how Shino could just stand there, unmoved—except no, he understood perfectly. For Shino, Nagato wasn't a <em>person<em>. He was… he was the man who had driven Sakura-chan to death.

Or maybe, Sakura-chan had driven him to drive Sakura-chan to death? Naruto wasn't exactly sure, but he caught a few of the confusing apologies Ero-sennin was mumbling against the sad, withered husk of a corpse in his arms. He didn't really follow them or listen too closely, because that would be rude, but the point was that he could understand why Shino was just idly watching.

Even if he resonated with Nagato, Naruto couldn't find it in him to properly forgive the man. It was _Sakura-chan._ It was like—was like—it was like _taking away the sun_. Hinata-chan had looked even more destroyed than he had felt, and she had yelled! And cursed! And struck the first blow, even!

It blew his mind, for all that he knew his teammate was an excellent fighter.

In his reckoning, if he really could undo all the deaths he caused—today at least—he could consider things squared with the dead man. Shino though… Well, Naruto wasn't sure Shino even knew that forgiveness was a thing, like, _regularly_, let alone in a situation like this.

Naruto couldn't blame him, but it didn't make him any less tense. He wasn't sure what he was expecting; if Shino was going to do something, then he probably would have done it as soon as they first reached the cave with that blue-haired lady, instead of waiting until after Nagato had killed himself trying to fix things.

Probably.

Seriously, Naruto was pretty sure Sakura-chan and Kiba were the only ones who really knew what went on in that head of his, most of the time.

"If… if it worked," Naruto broke the silence as quietly as he could manage. "You should probably… I mean, don't you wanna check?"

For a long moment, he thought he might have been _too_ quiet, because Shino didn't look as though he had heard him at all. Apparently his volume had been fine, though, because Shino slowly turned to look at him. "I will depart within the next minute and forty-five seconds," he promised. "Why that time? Because my insects are not finished."

Worry gripped his stomach, even as he saw Ero-sennin stiffen from the corner of his eye. "Finished with, uh, with _what?"_ Naruto asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.

The dim light in the cave manage to gather itself together enough to reflect menacingly off Shino's dark glasses as he turned his head. "Doujutsu disposal." Shino said, and Naruto shuddered at the implications. He had seen Yahiko's skeleton, after all. "I was…" Here he paused, thoughtfully. "Overcome. Yes. I was _overcome_, and forgot to do my duty to Sakura. For his reparations and for making my mistake null and void, I will forward this duty to the man known as Nagato."

Personally, Naruto thought he just wanted to have his bugs chomp through Nagato's eyes, but like hell he was gonna _say_ that. He was just thankful Shino had waited until _after_ Nagato had died to be sadistic and creepy.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>On the battlefield, miles away, the rain trickled to a stop and so, it seemed, did the flow of enemies. A miracle began happening, spreading outwards from the epicenter of the initial blast.<p>

The sun began peeking out of the clouds, and Sakura slowly opened her eyes.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__3,255_

_**Total Word Count: **__37,450_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__31,667_

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><p><em>Holy smokes this ended up being a long chapter. I'm a little impressed with myself.<em>


	20. Young

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 20: **_Young_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"Somebody turn that off," was the first thing slurred out of her mouth, because she didn't have her sunglasses and her eyes were feeling tender. Even the faint rays breaking through the gloom were a bit too much at the moment. She grimaced as she shifted up onto her elbows, digging into the muddy ground.<p>

Belatedly, her brow furrowed. Every part of her felt stiff and sore, as if she had twisted herself into some strange pose and held it in a cold place for a long time. It didn't click into place until she looked up and saw Hinata on her knees beside her, weeping into her hands.

"Aren't I supposed to be dead?" Sakura asked, blunt more out of shock and confusion than insensitivity.

Hinata let out a little wail and all but tackled Sakura back against the muck.

She grunted in shock, but obligingly lifted her stiff, achy arms and hugged Hinata back. The mud was cold against her neck, her clothes were a total loss if the holes she could feel were any indication, and her hair was probably filthy, but heaven knew if the tables had turned, Sakura would not be taking Hinata's miraculous return to life with nearly as much poise.

She still had _no_ idea why it had happened, but she could table that thought for the moment.

She caught a flash of pale yellow, and smiled weakly up at Ino's upside-down face. "Ino! You… You look mad."

"_I WONDER WHY?!" _Ino snarled, fists akimbo.

Sakura couldn't exactly blame her for the outburst; if the tables had turned, heaven knew that Sakura would not be taking Ino's miraculous return to life with nearly as much poise as she was exerting now. Screaming would _not_ be the end of it.

"I… I thought you were dead," Sakura admitted quietly, stroking Hinata's hair gently and mentally apologizing for how dirty she was getting it.

Ino's mouth trembled dangerously for a moment, before she dropped into a crouch. She fisted one hand in her hair and used the other one to gently rap Sakura on the forehead. "Quit stealing my lines, you damn ch-cheater." She cleared her throat once and squeezed her eyes shut. "Hinata and I—we both only made it here after… we made it here after. You probably mistook me for one of my cousins."

"Oh." Sakura mulled that over for a moment, squinting up at the gradually clearing sky. Then she reached up and tangled her fingers together with Ino's, squeezing them once, tightly. "I'm glad you're okay."

Ino sputtered for a moment, no doubt taken aback by the sheer irony of that statement. That seemed to be the last straw; her face crumpled as she gripped Sakura's hand and cradled it against her cheek, bursting into tears. Sakura was too tired to really panic, so she just accepted her situation, and let her friends trap her in a sobbing, loving cage.

They had earned it, after what she had put them through. Hell, _she_ had earned it, after what she had forced herself to do.

After a few moments, however, she could no longer fight off her confused curiosity. Hinata's crying had all but died away, even if Ino was still choking the life out of Sakura's hand, so she hedged her bets a little. "So… I never really got an answer." Just hugs and tears. "I mean, not that I am not _thrilled_ to be here, but I am fairly sure I'm not supposed to be."

Hinata hiccupped slightly, raising her head from Sakura's chest at last. "You… weren't," she choked out, with obvious difficulty. "You were g-gone, Sakura-chan, totally gone. For a long time. But now you and the rest are alive again and—" She swiped her hand over her eyes, reluctantly sitting up. "I don't know _why_. But you are. Please—please don't do something like that again."

"I'm not planning on it any time soon," Sakura promised, honestly. She was fairly sure that, resurrection aside, that seal was a one-time deal. She'd need a second one applied sooner or later, but until then any stunts like this would be off the table.

Ino was beginning to calm down as well, since the feeling was trickling back into her fingers. Taking a deep breath, Sakura braced herself for the blistering, recriminating tirade that was no doubt about to thunder down upon her.

…it had been a while since she had been this happy to have Ino yell at her.

Sakura let her eyes slip shut, and smiled.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Shino found Sakura propped up against the curve of Akamaru's bulk upon his return to the decimated battlefield, with Kiba's arm hooked around her shoulders as he wept, shamelessly.<p>

Sakura smiled tiredly up at him, alerted by the reaction of the kikaichu he had posted on her at all times, gently rubbing circles into Kiba's shoulder as he bawled his eyes out. Shino's stride didn't pause as he approached them and smoothly seated himself on her other side, reaching out and placing a hand on her knee. It was exposed, ripped where the rods had pierced and destroyed the joint, and he squeezed it lightly.

Sakura wordlessly covered it with her own, blessedly warm to the touch. If he concentrated, he could feel her pulse. He spent a moment trying to carve that rhythm into his mind, memorizing the soft, even breaths she was taking, the time between blinks. He gathered every shred of evidence that supported the fact that she was here, alive and well.

Alive. He let out an inaudible sigh. Alive.

"Mission accomplished," he said, once he had gotten his fill of her vitality signs for the moment. "The target was left emotionally compromised in the wake of your clash, and Naruto made excellent use of the opening you made. As you can see."

Sakura raised her eyebrows in interest. Her voice was slightly slurred when she spoke, as her cheek was pillowed against Kiba's head. "You're telling me the Rinnegan did this?" _That's __**bullshit**_, her eyes seemed to twinkle, white stars glittering in disbelief. "Wow. Looks like I hit a few more nerves than I originally targeted." She reflected on this for a moment, before breaking into a grin. "I am _awesome_."

"Hell y-yes you a-are," Kiba grunted, ruffling a filthy hand through her mud-streaked hair in fierce pride. He refused to take his face away from her shoulder, however, so his voice was ultimately muffled. "Did _'xactly_ what ha-had to be done."

"Mm." Sakura's eyes returned to the lidded state they had been in previously. They would have to replace her sunglasses again, once this war was over and they were home. "That's one big problem down, yeah. Now we just have to deal with the monster army, the crazy Uchiha, and maybe Orochimaru and we'll be all clear."

"We shall manage," Shino said, because it was true. They always did; they had somehow, beyond all expectations, managed to land on their feet yet again in the wake of disaster. He had no idea why luck seemed to be in their favor, but for once he didn't care to ponder it.

The results were enough.

"So we shall," Sakura replied, lovingly mocking. She shifted slightly, letting her head fall on Shino's shoulder instead. "Speaking of managing, though…" She wet her lips. "You think there's any chance at all we could just… oh, I don't know… _not_ tell Kurenai about this little incident? Or my—oh god." She lifted her head, visibly blanching.

"I _thought_ you seemed a bit too blasé about that," Shino said, lips curving faintly behind his high collar.

"Oh my god, Shino, don't you fucking grin at me right now. My family—they are going to _freak_. You remember after the Invasion?" She was faintly wild-eyed now, obviously recalling the smothering protectiveness her grandfather had heaped upon her during her recovery, and he heard Kiba laugh wetly from her other side. "You remember how they were back then? They're going to be even worse."

"You earned it," Shino told her, because for all that he was happy to have her here, alive, with them, he was just as upset with her for choosing that final, normally irreversible tactic. It had, logically, been the best choice she could have made at the time.

Shino found that, for once, logic could go take a long walk off a short cliff. He didn't have it in him to fully forgive anybody who hurt his teammates—not even his teammates themselves.

"Yeah," Sakura blew out an amused sigh, squeezing him and Kiba gently. "Yeah. I've earned a lot." Irksomely, he practically _felt_ her weigh their lives against her own and reaffirm her own choice. "Can't really complain, either way."

"Sure you can," Kiba huffed, now more or less in control of himself. "You wouldn't be _you_ if you couldn't find a way to complain about something."

Sakura laughed, bright and short. Shino tried to memorize that as well. "You're lucky I'm too tired to punch your face in for that," she told him, with love. She paused, growing serious for a moment. "Um, while we're on the subject of family and consequences… what exactly happened to my tanto? It wasn't in its sheath when I… came back."

Shino honestly hadn't given much of a thought to that or any weapon in the wake of her death, aside from those that he could use against their target. Luckily, the matter seemed to resolve itself neatly.

"Um, S-Sakura-san?" The blue-haired Mist-nin that Sakura had recently allowed herself to become enamored with approached them at a slow, respectful pace. Well, 'respectful', but for the most part Shino, Kiba and even Akamaru seemed to be all but invisible to him at the moment.

Sakura sat up, visibly surprised. "Choujuurou-kun!" She lifted her hand off Shino's to push her hair away from her eyes, apparently finally caring about her state of extreme dishabille. "Y-You were part of our reinforcements, right? Thank you."

"I should be saying that," Choujuurou said, dropping his eyes to the ground and stopping in front of them.

"Oh… I didn't do much," Sakura tried to demure.

"I meant for… um, for coming back," Choujuurou explained, rubbing the back of his neck. Shino mentally awarded him a point for that answer. Kiba's approval; of the young man mostly hinged on superficial points at the moment, but Shino was more discerning when it came to determining how much of Sakura's time any one person outside their team happened to be.

Personally, he wasn't curious about whether their hypothetical children had purple hair or not. Much.

"Oh." Sakura colored. "That's… also not something I did, but—" Her eyes drifted down and caught on something tucked into one of his belts. "Is that my tanto?"

"Ah, yes!" Choujuurou smoothly drew it out and flipped it over, offering it to her hilt-first. "I—er, well, it's," he swallowed. "It's kind of a tradition that popped up during the civil war. A comrade goes down, and you—you take their weapon and you keep fighting. For. For, um…"

"You killed my share of the enemy for me?" Sakura asked, lips curling slowly. Shino felt her pulse jump slightly beneath his fingers.

"I wanted to at least do that much," Choujuurou mumbled, glancing up to meet her eyes. "Since I was too late to help you any other way." There was guilt and frustration obviously lacing his voice.

Grudgingly, as Sakura accepted her sword and Kiba snickered quietly over whatever he could scent beneath the line of conversation, Shino awarded him another point.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count: <strong>__1,940_

_**Total Word Count: **__39,390_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__33,334_

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><p><em>A little late today. Sorry!<em>


	21. Mind

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 21: **_Mind_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"Hey, you okay?" Sakura tilted her head as she stretched out, winding down from her spar with Choujuurou. He was, by her disgruntled estimation, leading by three full wins. Her main concern for the moment, however, was the perturbed look on Hinata's face. Her friend had been personally supervising Sakura for the past few days because, while the rest of those revived had been fine, they needed to make sure the seal Sakura had used wouldn't have any strange after effects.<p>

There had never been a chance to study a survivor, after all.

"It's probably nothing," Hinata hedged, glancing down at the letter in her hands. "Really, I suppose I'm just… worrying."

"It _is_ a habit of yours," Sakura agreed, pushing sweaty bangs out of her eyes. They had adjusted to life without sunglasses once more, though she still felt a little naked with such a bare face. "What specifically is worrying you this time?"

"Sasuke-san," Hinata admitted, cringing at the way Sakura tensed, like a deer catching the flash of sunlight off a hunter's arrow.

"Oh." Sakura cleared her throat uncomfortably, and glanced at Choujuurou from beneath her lashes.

He smiled sympathetically at her and made a show of focusing on rewrapping his sword, to give them the illusion of privacy without abandoning Sakura in the face of a conversation she really, really did not want to have. She felt a burst of warmth in her chest at that; he was a sweetheart, really. If he wasn't so brutal in battle, she would never suspect he was really a shinobi.

Well. People probably thought that about _Sakura_ more or less as well, so she really shouldn't be casting stones on that front.

"It's nothing… _major_," Hinata rushed to assure her. "Just a bad feeling, I suppose. Or maybe I just miss him. We've been separated for quite a long time now." She traced the creases of the paper in her hands. "His letters all say he's fine and making progress with his new ability, but… oh, I don't know. I feel like something is wrong."

"Maybe it's because you know something he doesn't _want_ to know," Sakura grumbled, then flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry! Sorry. That was mean."

Hinata sighed and shook her head, but there was a small smile playing over her lips. "No, you might actually be right, Sakura-chan," she conceded softly. "Maybe… maybe it's just a bit of guilt, or apprehension." Because eventually Sakura would _have_ to face Sasuke and give him a flat no. It was a miracle she hadn't crossed his path already.

"I'm sure he's fine," Sakura tried to reassure her friend, shoving that thought to the back of her mind yet again. "I mean, he went on all those training trips with your teacher, right? He's probably used to roughing it and messing around with his eyes."

"He is at that," Hinata murmured, and brought a hand up to stifle a soft laugh. "Thank you, Sakura-chan. I feel a little better about the matter, now."

"Happy to help." Sakura flashed a peace sign and grinned. "God knows I'd be pretty worried if one of _my_ boys was out of arms reach for that long. They're pretty reckless when they don't have me to keep them in line."

Hinata pinned her with an unimpressed look. "I rather think that goes both ways, Sakura-chan."

Which. Well. Okay, yes, given recent events, Sakura couldn't exactly argue that point. So she just laughed and busied herself with retying her ponytail, enjoying the faint early-evening breeze on the back of her neck. Behind her, Choujuurou finished off his task and climbed to his feet, clearing his throat softly.

When she turned to look at him, he smiled. "We have first watch tonight. We should get dinner soon, or we might be late."

"Right you are." Sakura looped her arm through his and extended her other hand, wriggling her fingers pointedly. "Come on, Hinata-chan, before Kiba and Naruto end up gorging themselves in an eating contest or something."

Hinata observed them for a moment, no doubt analyzing the situation perfectly because apparently Sakura was _just that obvious_ when infatuated, but obligingly stood up and took her hand. They made their way towards where dinner was being prepared, chatting in soft, idle tones.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>The Mizukage arrived one unnervingly peaceful week later, all but swanning into the rebuilt camp. Tsunade came as well, but Sakura was much, much more vexed by the former than the latter.<p>

"Quit your pouting," Tsunade advised, sipping straight from a bottle. She had demanded to give Sakura a full battery of tests, scouring her body and system for any lingering trace of the seal. Alliance or not, there was no way she would be applying a replacement in the midst of a bunch of foreign shinobi, so Sakura was allowed to get dressed again.

"I am _not_ pouting," Sakura huffed, shrugging into her flak jacket. "This is just—just my resting expression. That's all."

"I've seen you unconscious," her boss waved off the flimsy excuse, taking another pull from the bottle. "And there was no hint of sulky, puffy cheeks or a _pout_."

Sakura bit her bottom lip and tried to change her expression.

"Well, now you just look _gloomy,_" Tsunade remarked, laughing a little.

"Shishou, _please_," Hinata scolded her mentor.

"Take Hinata-chan for example," Tsunade switched targets seamlessly, gesturing to her apprentice, who had frozen like a rabbit in front of a fox. "Her method of pining is much, much cuter. Just as obvious, mind you, but cuter." Hinata rubbed her forehead, turning red almost by reflex alone.

_I'm so sorry,_ Sakura mouthed to her friend, grimacing in solidarity. Then the full impact of those words hit her. "I am _not_ pining! F-For anyone, or anywhere!"

"Save it," Tsunade advised, before knocking back the remainder of the bottle. "Your boys already gave me and Kurenai an update on this."

Those loose-lipped _bastards_. If Tsunade knew, there was probably a bet involved. Those two would pay for this treachery, she swore to herself. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, or any time soon. But they would _pay._

"There," Tsunade nodded, breaking her from her mutinous musings. "That's a much better face. Kind of scary, but hey; it's a war. A scary expression is better than a sulky one."

"I was _not—"_ Sakura began, drawing herself up, before she was interrupted.

"I am invoking my power as your military dictator," Tsunade announced, but the severity of her words was diminished somewhat by the fact that she was unsealing a second bottle. Hell, it probably wasn't even a 'second' bottle; likely a third or fourth, knowing the Hokage and her affinity for the slight of hand. "You _were_ sulking. It's adorable, seeing you get all huffy and jealous over your little blue beau and _his_ thirty-one year old military dictator."

"Shut. _Up."_ Sakura gaped, utterly floored. "Thirty-one? No _way!"_ Then again, Choujuurou definitely didn't look nineteen, so perhaps the wet climate of Water Country kept Mist-nin well moisturized and baby-faced as a whole. Ao looked pretty old, but maybe he was secretly as old as the _Sannin_. Or older.

"Way," Tsunade nodded gravely, lifting the bottle in a toast. "So don't worry so much. It's probably just admiration."

"Maybe," Sakura said, dubious. Twelve years was a big gap, but that wasn't always an issue as long as the people involved were of age. It would be like Kiba or Shino dating Kurenai, except that was a terrible, terrible example because her boys were idiots who would grow up to be chronic bachelors if she didn't help them out, and Kurenai _belonged_ with Asuma. She and her teammates had gone with him and Team Ten to pick out an engagement ring about a month before they had been tapped for the conference.

So yeah, thinking about any brat going after her teacher just made her angry. Perhaps she would change her mind given enough time to think the matter over, but for now she would remain in a state of discontent.

"I think you've said enough for now, Shishou," Hinata cut in again bravely. Sakura felt a huge wave of affection crest over her, and took the out that had been handed to her.

"Yeah, we're all done, right?" Sakura hopped up from the cot they had used as an examination table, smoothing down her uniform pants and making sure her tanto was properly secured to her belt. "I should probably go—"

"Sit back down," Tsunade ordered. "I'm not done drinking and you're my camouflage."

"But everybody _knows_ you're drinking!" Sakura protested, even as she sat back down. "You're—you're _Tsunade-hime!_ That's what you _do." _Well, drinking and gambling, neither of which she should be doing in front of the troops.

"Don't you talk to your favorite Hokage of all time like that," Tsunade scolded her. "Why, I could write a very interesting letter to the Minister of the Left if you rub me wrong. Goodness knows he'd be _happy_ for an update."

Sakura blanched.

"That's what I _thought_," Tsunade remarked smugly.

Hinata shot Sakura a look of pure commiseration and moved to sit beside her on the cot. "…you're sure you feel okay?" she asked again, for what had to be approaching the fiftieth time since Sakura returned to the land of the living.

"I've never felt better," Sakura assured her honestly, again. It was hard _not_ to feel as though she was she was running at two hundred percent, considering she had a personal medic-nin investigating every odd ache or pain that popped up over the course of her days. It would probably end today, she understood, once Tsunade had made her final notes and sent Sakura off with a clean bill of health.

How long that health would last depended solely on when the enemy decided to stop laying low or they located their other base of operations.

Sakura decided to treasure her last few moments of getting spoiled, even if it meant being used as a front for Tsunade to get a buzz going.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong>__ 1,680_

_**Total Word Count: **__41,070_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__35,000_

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><p><em>Obviously, there's some major re-planning in store for that crazy rogue Uchiha, thanks to Shino. And that takes time, so have a little more downtime, before the next spike of action.<em>


	22. Stage

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 22: **_Stage_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"So." Naruto drawled, hooking his arms behind his head as they viewed the deconstruction of the camp that had been so recently restored. "Sooo."<p>

"So?" Sakura prompted, not even pausing as she double-checked already packed crates that were due to get shipped out via summons that evening.

"So," Naruto said again, before actually following through on his original train of thought. "We're… basically putting all of our eggs in one big basket, right? I mean, reports from the other camps have most of the enemy's big hitters either dead or outta commission—no idea what those rumors are from, but not even _I'm_ gonna believe that thing about the crazy cultist living after they ripped him to pieces—and the higher-ups decided that means we should all just… meet up back at HQ?"

"That about sums it up," Sakura agreed, checking off a few more crates on her clipboard.

"…that doesn't sound smart," was her sometimes-friend's flat verdict.

She shifted the top off a crate of dried rations and did a quick mental tally. "And _why_ does it not sound smart?" It was an idle prompt, but proof that she was listening. It wasn't that Naruto was stupid; not really, anyways. He could have unparalleled flashes of wisdom and insight. He just… needed to get there on his own, with a little nudge here and there sometimes.

"Well, it's sort of dangerous, you know?" He scratched his head, frowning. "If we're all gathered together, then won't the crazy guy atta—oh."

There it was. Sakura smiled patiently, adjusting Shino's extra pair of sunglasses.

"_Ohhh."_ Naruto snapped his fingers. "We want him to attack us, then. It _is_ a trap."

"Well," she admitted. "He'll either stay away because he thinks it's a trap or get goaded into coming out, so either way it's a good outcome." The sooner their slippery mastermind stopped laying low, the sooner this war would be won. "Things don't have to _seem_ smart to actually _be_ smart, you know?" Lots of things. Most of Team Eight's mission tactics, Sakura's staunch avoidance of the Sasuke Issue, Naruto himself…

He was nodding sagely to himself. "…'seeing underneath the underneath', huh?" He grinned at her, flashing a thumbs up. "You always explain stuff really well, Sakura-chan!" Over the years, that had been more of a favor to Hinata than anything; the other girl was too shy to get through a solid explanation in front of her crush, and Sakura had reigned in her temper for her friend's sake. "You should totally become a teacher like Iruka-sensei!"

"That's more Shino's calling than mine," Sakura waved him off, checking off two more crates of surplus bedrolls.

Naruto stared.

"Yes?" Sakura frowned, peering into a small chest, and made a note that somebody had dipped into the drugs. It had either been a snap decision on the battlefield that somebody had forgotten to note, or somebody was scared of going to the big bad medic-nin. Sakura strongly suspected it might be Kakashi.

"Like _Shino _Shino?" Naruto asked, after a couple of sputtered false starts.

"No like _Shinobu_ Shino," she rolled her eyes, unseen, and shook her head sadly. "Of course I mean _Shino_ Shino. He's actually a lot better with kids than you might think." Part of that, she thought, might be in no small part due to his habitual condescension to Kiba. He liked to rank their teammate below his normal inferiors, including genin, chuunin, children, and on one memorable occasion, an ostrich. He was also methodological and inexhaustibly patient most of the time.

And, naturally, about as easy to ruffle as the average rock.

"Huh." Naruto rubbed his jaw as the checked off the last item on her—technically_ their_—list, then did a quick once-over to make sure she hadn't skipped any assigned items. She hadn't. "I dunno about that, but I guess you'd know him better than me."

"That's part of what being teammates means, I think." Sakura murmured absentmindedly, scrawling her signature at the bottom of the page, followed by a small seal matrix and the necessary application of chakra.

"Right." Naruto shifted from foot to foot, surprisingly uneasy. Sakura tapped her fingertips against the edge of the clipboard, a slight feeling of dread creeping up on her. It bore fruit almost immediately. "So, uh. On the subject of… teammates…"

Sakura laughed, sweet and so, so false. Naruto flinched back, not quite able to kick the reflex developed by their childhood dynamic. "No," she said, gentle but firm.

"Ah. Haha. Aha." Naruto tugged at his collar. "So, uh, is that a 'No, we're not gonna talk about it' or a 'No, it's never gonna happen between us' or a 'No, he's—"

Sakura laid a hand on his shoulder, beaming up at him until he faltered and fell silent.

"…all of the above. Gotcha." Naruto swallowed. "We, um. We should… go… report back?" He cringed. "…please stop smiling like that, Sakura-chan, I told Sasuke-teme he didn't have a chance! I did good! I've been doing a _lot_ of good!"

Sakura let her smile soften into something more real than saccharinely threatening, and moved her hand to ruffle through his hair gently. "Yeah," she said as he stared down at her, visibly surprised. "You really have. Keep it up."

She pulled back her hand and tucked the clipboard under one arm, striding back to the main tent, which would be the last thing to get deconstructed and packed away. She was almost halfway there before she heard him finally move, bounding after her.

She didn't have to turn to face him to register the jubilant pride he was radiating.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p>Still, his words stuck with her for the rest of that day and well into the next, once they had packed up and marched out. Not the bit about Sasuke—that was, after all, exactly against her chosen tactic regarding him for the moment—but about possible alternative career paths.<p>

When they hit their stride and petered off to a bored march a little before midday, she was bored enough to broach the question.

"So, if we survive another ten years—" Sakura began, only to be interrupted by a low groan.

"Ugh, _seriously_, you always ask weird stuff when you start like that!" Kiba complained.

"_If we survive another ten years,"_ Sakura began again, talking over Kiba's grumblings and mumblings. "What do you think we'll end up doing?" Depending on how post-war relations settled, the frequency of their secret missions could either drop or rise sharply, but given enough time they would be forcibly taken out of rotation.

"Well, Shino's gonna be a teacher, either for a team or at the Academy, we've known that for years." Kiba said, changing his tune almost immediately. "And I'm going to… do something totally awesome…" He floundered for a moment. "Maybe I'll throw my hat into the ring for Hokage!"

Sakura snorted.

"Highly unlikely," was Shino's flat assessment.

"Seriously, even the Sandaime's little grandson has a better shot at it." she needled their now visibly pouting teammate. "I'm thinking… herding missions across Fire Country."

Kiba pursed his lips rebelliously. "…that actually sounds like a lot of fun," he admitted with great reluctance. "Akamaru'd prolly like that." The dog barked once, in agreement. "I might have to help Sis with the clan once Ma decides she's sick of being in charge."

"I too will have clan obligations to fulfill should we reach that milestone," Shino agreed. He turned his head ever so slightly to look at Sakura. "I believe the true question is where _your_ obligations shall lie." He said it blandly, but there was a delicacy to the question that was unsettling.

"Yeah." It all depended on how the war ended and on what terms they stayed with the other countries and villages. She would always be a Haruno, plain and simple. She was well rounded enough that Tsunade or whoever succeeded her—maybe Naruto, maybe somebody else and _then_ Naruto—could move her around as they saw fit and still have her flourish more or less. And there were _other_ factors to consider too.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye without turning her head, catching a flash of blue near the Mizukage. It wasn't that se _expected_ anything with Choujuurou, because he was apparently as dense as she was obvious when it came to romance, but the very fact the a foreign shinobi could make her stomach flutter like this now set a precedent.

There was no telling if things would pan out with him, or if the next man she developed feelings for would be from Konoha. She wasn't twelve anymore; Konoha wasn't her entire world, dotted with the odd vacation to Iron. She would commit any number of atrocities for her village—

"_His fault," she stuttered through hiccupping breaths, gripping Shino's hand like a lifeline as he disposed of the detective that had caught onto them. They would pin it on a local gang, later. "His fault. All his fault."_

_Shino squeezed her hand just as tightly._

—but she wasn't sure what her role would be once it no longer demanded that duty from her. Certainly by the time Naruto took over they would no longer be held to that standard; he would be horrified and angry on their behalf, she was sure. She could be sent to Iron as a diplomat, or perhaps taken under Tsunade's wing for more training. Maybe she would try T&I for a while, or maybe, because of her father, she could end up being tapped to be a member of the next cycle of the Twelve Guardian Ninja.

"Yeah," she said again, switching her gaze back to the long road ahead of them when Choujuurou seemed to finally notice the weight of a gaze and began looking around. "Well, it's more fun if at least _one_ of us has a surprise waiting down the line, right?"

Her teammates didn't answer.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong>__ 1,660_

_**Total Word Count: **__42,730_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__36,667_

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><p><em>Sorry for the delay. I've been really sick the past couple days, and I've been basically been spending my time split between being collapsed in bed and trying to keep my food down.<em>


	23. Chips

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 23: **_Chips_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"Don't you dare bet on this," Sakura swore, pointing a finger at her leader, eyes narrowed into slits.<p>

"Thirty thousand on them not having any clue about the martyrdom thing and her accidentally cluing them into it," Tsunade ignored her, glancing around the gathering of Leaf-nin shrewdly.

"I'll put the same down for her getting grounded over that _and_ getting teased about Sword Boy." Kiba jumped in, not even faltering as he was punched, hard, in the bicep. His sunglasses hid most of his wince. "I mean, they definitely know about the Sasuke thing but they're already used to you getting proposals and stuff, right?"

"There have not been notable betrothal contracts since graduation from the Academy," Shino snitched, safe in the knowledge that he was too far away for her to collect vengeance. For the moment, at least. "Her international prospects took a slight dip upon her less forward-thinking uncle's revelation of her doujutsu as a possible deformity to the court of Iron as a whole. Thirty-five that she is forced to undergo a strict lecture on foolhardy tactics."

If Sakura wasn't tied up in knots of worry at the moment, there would be blood in the air. Shino was a dead man.

"…Forty thousand that it isn't anything bad at all," Hinata chipped in, the most bittersweet betrayal of all. Sakura grimaced at her, aggression lessening with every moment she glared into those supportive, pale eyes.

"I'll put up the same for one of them giving her a good whack," Ino inspected one of her nails carefully." Her other arm was looped tightly around Sakura's, and had been for most of the day since they reached Headquarters. Logically, she would have to let go when Sakura went to answer the 'non-urgent' summons to the make-shift office of the Minister of the Left, but as it was Sakura just used the proximity to shoot her friend the dirtiest look she could muster.

"You all suck," she announced. She couldn't bring herself to go much further than that because of how much it was taking not to reflexively run her fingers through her hair or jiggle a leg nervously. Her heart was basically in her throat, and she was torn between wanting to flee and wanting to just get it over with.

"Well if you're going to be like _that_ then you're dismissed," Tsunade decided, flicking her fingers in a 'shoo' motion. "Go on, get. You have a meeting, missy."

Sakura didn't move for a moment, only staring at the older woman as if she didn't fully comprehend the words that had come from her mouth. Then, stiffly, she extracted her arm from Ino's vice-like gift and exited the room they had convened in, nodding absently as she took a deep breath and braced herself.

It wasn't a long walk, from the Hokage's office to her grandfather's, but for some reason the hallways felt endless. It felt unnatural, to answer such a summons without one servant or another shadowing her, but no, no; the servants were likely attending to more important duties, or were at least posted outside.

She stopped in front of the office door, alone, and swallowed hard. Then she raised her hand and knocked. The door swung out from beneath her knuckles almost as soon as they made contact and she was left staring, without the shield of any sunglasses at all, at the broad chest of her grandfather.

A long, strong arm reached out and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind her and trapping her against a hard chest. A broad, calloused hand cradles the back of her head, and for the first time in her entire life she felt a faint tremor in it.

Sakura's voice caught in her throat and she curled her fingers into the back of his kimono, feeling as though she was five again and about to be swallowed up by this imposing, larger-than-life man.

"Sorry." She choked it out, horrified to feel the sniffle working its way up. She hadn't cried when she died, or when she opened her eyes again. Not when Hinata cried, or Ino cried or Kiba cried. Perhaps it had built up in the meantime, like a dammed up river. That dam broke and she drew in a ragged breath. "S-Sorry."

"When I told you I didn't want to hear death-bed babble I did not mean _'die alone'_."That hoarse, sharp tone was almost alien and she couldn't see anything but the fine, dark silk beneath her cheek, but after a moment she tentatively matched it to Tsutomu. It was a far cry from his normal cultured tones, but it was his voice all the same.

"I surv-survived," she mumbled, and nearly lost the breath to speak when her grandfather's embrace tightened.

"You did." That was… Hiraku, she supposed. He was unsettlingly solemn. There was a sound of skin on skin; he was rubbing his face, she supposed. "Thank… thank _everything_, yes, you did." She had never heard him at such a loss for words before.

"I haven't heard back from Mebuki yet," was Hajime's input. He at least sounded normal, if a bit more solemn than usual. "I imagine she and your father are still… dealing with the idea." His voice took on a strange undertone. "Thank you. For not making me tell her you were… Thank you for living, Sakura-chan."

"You keep _saying_ that to me," she edged on a wail, shoulders shaking. It was too much; he had said nearly the same thing when she was in the hospital post-poisoning. His quiet gratitude was always unbearable, and always delivered when she felt like a failure for distressing them.

"Then stop making him say it," Hideki finally spoke, his voice rough and low. His grip eased up, allowing her to reluctantly move back and look at him. His face looked as though it could have been carved from stone, but his eyes—his eyes looked suspiciously bright. He stroked her hair gently and she screwed her own eyes shut, bringing her hands to her mouth to stifle the pathetic little whimpers that were threatening to spill out.

Out of everybody in the world, it was only her family that could reduce her to this. It would be worse if her parents were here; she'd be as unrestrained as Kiba. For the moment, here, in this room, she wasn't Konohagakure Jounin Haruno Sakura, Registration Number 012601. She was…

The door opened behind her, likely letting in three more relatives if the lack of knocking was any indication. Sakura half-turned, and Toshio and Tatsuo seemed paralyzed, frozen at the sight of her with such a tear-stained face. Even as children, they had always been awkward and terrified by seeing her cry.

In stark contrast, something in Yutaka's face softened, and it was though all of the years, and awkwardness, and lingering bitterness evaporated as he stepped forward, one hand gently reaching out to rub the wetness from her cheeks with his long sleeves, uncaring of how the fabric might take it.

She was just Sakura. Little, born-too-soon Sakura, with fragile feelings and hopes far bigger than her small shoulders seemed ready to support.

"Silly girl," he said quietly, smiling in a way that looked terribly painful. She gripped her grandfather's wrist. "This is exactly why I wanted you to quit, you know. Your kind doesn't…" He rubbed his thumb beneath her eye and clenched his jaw. "The special ones never get to retire happily."

It wasn't the whole story, obviously, but it was a side she hadn't heard before. She drew in a shuddering, loud breath. "I'm pretty happy right now," she admitted, so flooded for love for these men at the moment that it was difficult to breathe.

**O**

"Pay up," she advised Kiba and Shino much later that night, dry-eyed but still feeling somewhat wrung-out from the conversations she had finally had the time to have with them all. It had been unprofessional, technically, to have that little meeting, but _everybody_ with family that had fallen and risen again in that fight with Pein was doing it.

Her boys had even been drawn away by their clans for check-overs, though the Aburame members had been notably more restrained than the Inuzuka. Kiba was still sporting a patch of red on his cheek from where his sister had smacked him, and a smear of red on his hairline where his mother had kissed him.

"You didn't even put down a bet!" Kiba protested reflexively.

"No, but Ino and Hinata both nailed it, so you're not getting a ryo, either way." Sakura smiled sweetly, idly rubbing where the twins had simultaneously whacked her for "non-sneaky suicidal heroics" once she had stopped crying and they had regained their normal candor. Neither Choujuurou nor Sasuke hadn't rated a mention

"Damn." He ruffled his hair, worrying his lip with one too sharp canine. "I, uh. I just sort of said that to mess with you. I didn't exactly bring any cash with me, you know? It was a joke!"

"Tsunade-sama doesn't mess around with gambling," Sakura pointed out, now in much better spirits. "You know that." She rarely won, except just before truly terrible events, but she was always, always earnest. Except when it came to she herself paying up, but she would likely be able to get Ino and Hinata to accept training and techniques in place of legal tender.

"Ugh." He pulled a face. "Think they'll take a rain check on that, then?"

"They might," she mused. "But they won't forget about it. Ino might even just decide to make you work it off in her family's flower shop."

Kiba made a noise of vague, soul-deep horror. He claimed that the Yamanaka's shop was a disgusting, cloying cesspit of scents and it took his nose hours to stop twitching every time she dragged him inside. Sakura glanced to the side, not holding out much hope for any real reaction from Shino.

He didn't fail to disappoint. "Unfortunate," he murmured. "You really did deserve that scolding."

Free of any nerves or particular worries, aside from the obvious looming enemy, Sakura let loose and socked him in the stomach.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong>__ 1,700_

_**Total Word Count: **__44,430_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__38,334_

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><p><em>Double update today, and I'll try to catch up with a double update tomorrow. Sorry for the delay. I'm still not feeling too hot.<em>


	24. Relative

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the series _Naruto_ or any of the characters or concepts within it. I still don't own Onimeno-sensei or any of his 'acquaintances' either; all I lay claim to are the various relatives I've stuck Sakura with.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Now You See It<span>

**Chapter 24: **_Relative_

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>Tsunade looked upset, which wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, but it never meant anything good. Especially because she wasn't flinging furniture around or yelling. Sakura shared a hidden glance with her teammates, and fought the urge to shift from foot to foot, like Naruto was. She personally had nothing to be worried about, because she hadn't had the <em>chance<em> to do anything upsetting, and Hinata was basically an angel. Shino was discrete at all times.

That meant, whatever it was, the one at fault was probably Kiba or Naruto—

"Uchiha Sasuke has missed his last two check-in times."

—Or Sasuke.

Wait.

"What do you mean, Shishou?" It was Hinata who spoke, fingers knotted together in obvious worry.

The Hokage sighed, rubbing her face tiredly. "I'm saying that as of five days ago, the squad he was assigned to woke up to him gone, and we've had no word in the meantime. I figured it would be best to let you know immediately and up front, since you all ended up haring off after him the last time he got himself kidnapped, or whatever's going on here."

Sakura reeled in shock, rubbing her mouth as she took everything in. Technically, Team Ten had helped out too, and they had been reinforced by Hinata's cousin's team, but neither were as… _historically_ _impetuous_ as Teams Seven and Eight happened to be. She could admit that much.

Silently, at least.

"_Is_ there another explanation?" Sakura wanted to know. There was death, obviously, but Tsunade's demeanor made her think that something else was up.

The Hokage bit at her thumbnail. "…it's still just speculation and based in hearsay, but when Konoha was attacked a reserve of Sharingan that were being preserved and kept under constant guard until Uchiha Sasuke came of age and could make a decision on what was to be done with them might have been hit. None of the eyes seem to be missing, but one of my men inside that group hinted that at least one was never officially accounted for."

Hinata sucked in a breath, and any other time Sakura might have grabbed her hand for comfort's sake. As it was, she was thinking furiously, and Naruto was kind enough to pick up the slack. Fortunately, the mood was too solemn for Hinata to swoon.

"So if it was never _officially_ accounted for, and it hasn't turned up in any biopsies or reconstruction efforts—" Sakura began slowly.

"It may have been taken in the chaos of the attack." Shino shifted his chin up, frowning over his collar. "This is somewhat worrying. Why? Because, for such an asset to go unaccounted for, it meant that it was valuable enough on its own that its existence would raise the danger of its container, living or otherwise."

"I've heard the Sharingan can do some freaky shit," Kiba admitted, ignoring Naruto's hot glare and scratching Akamaru's ears as he thought. "I mean, it was supposed to be one of them who forced the damn fox to attack, right?" Naruto's glare abruptly faltered. "At least, that's what all of my older relatives said was the general explanation. It's gotta be the same asshole we're dealing with now, so why would he want a third one?"

"Reconnaissance _has_ reported that the mask our enemy wears only has one hole in the eye," Shino reasoned. "Perhaps he decided the time was right for a replacement of what we might assume to be a damaged or imperfect eye."

"And," Sakura realized. "If it was powerful, it might have been something along the same lines of what Sasuke recently developed!" She raised a fist to her mouth and bit the knuckle, reasoning it out. "Do you think he might be planning on testing out which of them has the stronger set all together, and then keeping whichever turn out to be the best?"

Tsunade was grave and drawn. "…I sincerely hope so." Sakura got the impression that there was more the older woman was holding back about the situation, but her train of thought was derailed before she could pursue it.

"We gotta get him back!" Naruto burst out, one hand fisted and one gripping Hinata's like a lifeline. It was nearly identical to the pose the _last_ time he declared that, and despite the ill tidings Sakura had to force down a smile. Even if the world went crazy, it was nice to know that Naruto would never stop being Naruto.

"We currently have no leads," Tsunade told him plainly. "His squad searched everywhere in the area for him, and found no trace of him _ever_ being there, let alone forcibly taken."

"He would never have—!"

"_I know that,"_ Tsunade said, stopping him dead with a simmering glare. "But what I'm _saying_ is that whoever took him covered their tracks impossibly well, and we can't do anything until we have at least a scrap of information about Uchiha Sasuke's condition or location. And that means I need you to show _some_ modicum of self-control until then."

"He _could_ be bait as well, Naruto-kun," Hinata pointed out quietly. She looked despondent, but squeezed his hand back and mustered a small smile. "We can have enough faith in him to hold ourselves back for a _little_ while longer, can't we?

Naruto was quiet for a moment, allowing a strange tension to form in the office. "Yeah," he said finally, and with no little reluctance. "Yeah, we can trust him to take care of himself, until we can find him."

Sakura let out a sigh of relief.

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><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p>"S-Sakura-san!"<p>

Sakura sucked in a breath of pure unadulterated apprehension.

Not because of Choujuurou's greeting—not really, anyways—but because of the two beaming samurai caging him in on either side. It was too much to hope that her cousins wouldn't know about her crush at all, but they had at least known better than to let word slip to any of their uncles. Tsutomu was another story; he may have well been the _first_ person to notice.

Luckily, he seemed to be content to simply act as a spectator, sometimes literally as it turned out. He wasn't watching _now_, because he had a meeting with some other nobles, but she was willing to bet he would extract a brutal play-by-play from the twins later.

She thought it might be payback for taking so much entertainment from _his_ not-so-romantic misadventures.

"Hey, Choujuurou-kun," she said, jogging towards them and refusing to let her smile falter as the twins shot eachother exaggerated, mockingly saccharine looks behind his head. "Hey, Interchangeable Brats One and Two."

"Wow." Tatsuo scoffed, crossing his arms. _"Wow._ Really feeling the love there, cousin. Here we are, trying to have some fun with dear Chou-chan—"

"You know he's a full year and change older than you, right?"

"—DEAR, _DEAR CHOU-CHAN,"_ Tatsuo repeated firmly. "And then you just burst in and start being rude."

"Very rude," Toshio agreed, frowning at her in mock disapproval. "You're supposed to be a young lady of excellent breeding. Really, what _would_ Mebu-oba say?"

"Maybe something like, 'Quit spewing outdated sophistry, you pretentious brats'?" Sakura hazarded, stopping a little in front of the trio and smiling apologetically at the Mist-nin caught in the midst of their normal banter. "And then she'd hit you." Her smile turned patronizing as it was redirected to her cousins. "You forget the _type_ of excellent breeding we have."

Despite all evidence compiled during Sakura's early childhood, the Haruno clan did _not_ produce shrinking violets, no matter what the gender. Even her aunts, who were demure and graceful to a fault, had their violent sides. Being even tempered didn't mean they were _passive_, after all.

"Point to Pinky," Tastuo ceded gracelessly.

Sakura rolled her eyes behind Shino's extra glasses, shaking her head. "Thanks. Ass. Was there something you wanted, Choujuurou-kun?"

"Oh!" He blinked, shaken out of watching their back-and-forth, and smiled sheepishly. Or, well, it _would _ have been sheepish, if sheep had teeth that sharp. It was endearing all the same, however. "I was just wondering if you, um. If you wanted to have a match? Things have been busy lately, so we haven't done it in a while."

"_Make sure you don't let our honored Sofu-sama catch you sparring like that, cousin."_ Tsutomu had said, near the beginning of it all.

Toshio and Tatsuo seemed to share that impression, because they jumped in before she could even begin to think of a proper reply.

"Oh, that's not really a good idea, Chou-chan," Tsohio shook his head emphatically. "If somebody catches you fighting with Sakura-chan, then a whole bunch of people will want to join in on the fun. There are a _lot_ of samurai who want to know where they stand when matched against a Swordsman of the Mist, you know?"

"That's right, that's right!" Tatsuo agreed fervently, slinging an arm around Choujuurou's neck. "You'd get like _one_ spar in and then everybody would be clamoring for a turn and _then _Sakura-chan would have to explode some heads before they'd even think of leaving you alone."

"Oh." Choujuurou bit his lip, shoulders sagging ever so slightly. "I-I apologize. I didn't mean to ask you to do anything problematic," he insisted, glancing at the ground. "But you look… you look upset, and have all day. I thought, since it helped last time…"

"Thank you," Sakura said, sincerely touched. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, having foregone her ponytail for the day, and rocked back on her heels. "If it's all the same… do you think we could just talk, instead? I can't really mention what's bogging me down, but that helps blow off stress just as much."

Tatsuo made a gagging face, and the pulse of chakra she sent into his system manifested, ironically, in making him choke on his own saliva.

"Are you okay?" She asked, packing concern into her voice. "Toshio, why don't you take him to the medics, to make sure he isn't getting sick. That cough sounds bad." She turned back to Choujuurou and took his hand, tugging him free of her cousins. "Why don't you and I grab something to eat, and then find some place to ourselves?"

Choujuurou managed a surprise nod of assent, and managed a wave good-bye to the twins befoe she all but dragged him off.

Evenn if he was dense, if he spent any more time around her cousins he was sure to figure things out. And Sakura still didn't even know how she wanted 'things' to progress.

Still, for the moment his hand was rough and firm in her own, and some of the tension that had been coiled in the pit of her stomach since Tsunade dismissed the teams that morning finally eased up.

She would take what she could get.

* * *

><p><strong>O<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Chapter Word Count:<strong>__ 1,805_

_**Total Word Count: **__46,235_

_**Targeted Word Count: **__40,000_

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><p><em>Sorry, only one update today. I spent most of the time driving home for break today, and then I slept for like five hours.<em>


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